


Inch by Inch

by Akabit



Series: Stiles Resturant [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, F/M, Hale Family Feels, Hate Crimes, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Stiles feeds everyone, The prequel was preslash, This one has sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2724782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akabit/pseuds/Akabit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles plans to rebuild his restaurant get complicated when he finds himself at the center of the supernatural rights movement.  He tries to blame it on Peter, but is forced to acknowledge it is only half Peter's fault.  Maybe feeding everyone will make everything simpler.  At the very least, Derek approves of this plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Funds4Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [You Can Get Anything You Want](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2409347). It probably won't make much sense without reading the first story in the series. 
> 
> I am part of a large, slightly crazy, multi-faith family. While I have never prepared food for vampires or werewolves, I have cooked a Thanksgiving dinner for omnivores, vegetarians, a vegan, and a man who keeps kosher in a very small kitchen. I am trying to keep the descriptions of human diets as accurate as possible. If I mess up your diet, please tell me so I can correct it :).
> 
> The title is a reference to "The Garden Song". It can be viewed [here ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u90qRE2F7CM).

<Text from graphic>

**A ‘Human Rights’ arsonist destroyed our restaurant**

For almost five years, Stiles Restaurant has been a vital part of Beacon Hills.  We serve healthy, environmentally friendly food with a side of social justice.  Our restaurant takes pride in meeting the dietary requirements of almost every human and supernatural.

 **Goal: $120,000** This money will be used to purchase outdoor cooking equipment and seating so we can continue to serve a limited menu while rebuilding the main restaurant.  We also plan to purchase outdoor heaters, dishes, and cutlery.

 **Stretch Goal: $500,000** We would like to expand the services the restaurant provides.  Extra money will allow us to add a community room to host functions and exercise classes.

 **Contact:** Peter Hale betaphale@werescape.com

*****************

Two months after the arson that had destroyed his restaurant, Stiles looked at the notecards in his hands and wondered how he had lost control of his life.  He knew exactly who to blame: Peter Hale.  It had all started the day after the fire, when his father had woken him up to say that there was a media van outside and there had been several calls to both the house and the Sheriff's department.

“Do you think I can just bake them muffins and send them on their way?” asked Stiles.

The Sheriff rubbed the back of his neck, “If thats what you want to do Son, I can send them away without even giving them breakfast.”

“No, I should probably say something, but I refuse to do so without food or a shower.” Stiles stretched and shook his head to try to dislodge the last of his sleepiness. “Can you tell them I will be out in an hour?”

Stiles padded downstairs and mixed up a double batch of whole grain blueberry muffins with granola topping.  While they were in the oven, he took a quick shower and changed into the nicest set of clothes his dad had picked up from his trailer.  Even after being run through the wash, they were slightly smoky, but better than nothing.  He arranged the warm muffins in a serving basket and went out to greet the reporter.  People always seemed less scary after he shared food with them. His father followed the muffins out onto the porch wearing his full Sheriffs uniform.

“Who’s hungry,” Stiles asked in a good approximation of his usual cheerful voice.  He saw a little red light blinking on the camera that followed his every movement.  A professionally dressed woman holding a microphone walked up to Stiles and accepted one of the muffins.

“These are delicious,” she said enthusiastically after taking a cautious bite.

“They’re whole wheat, but you’d never know it,” confided Stiles.  “The trick is to use fresh ground soft white wheat berries and buttermilk.”

“How interesting,” she said although Stiles could tell she didn’t really understand what he was talking about.  “Were they on the menu at your restaurant?”

“Sometimes,” Stiles confirmed. “I change the menu frequently to take advantage of seasonal produce.  I made them today because they are one of my dad’s favorites.”

“They taste even better with white flour,” added the Sheriff.

“But they are so much healthier with whole wheat.” The argument over nutrition was instinctive to Stiles and helped him relax. Stiles took a deep breath and launched into the speech he had prepared while showering.

“My restaurant tries to have delicious food available for every human and supernatural diet.  We are quite literally made up of the food we eat. So by sharing food, I believe we can also share ourselves and our many cultures.  If we can learn to eat together, I know we can learn to live together was well.”

“Do you have anything to say to the arsonists?”

“We will rebuild.  In fact, we have already started.  Last night, our community came together to eat dinner and raise funds for the new building,”

“I understand you have already raised over $100,000,” the reporter said cheerfully.  Stiles starred.  He knew the  fundraiser had been a success, but that was ten times as much money as his most optimistic estimate.

“I..its..really?” he stuttered.  

The reporter smiled, “Yes, I spoke to Peter Hale before coming here and he told me all about your wildly successful Funds4Me campaign.  You met your first goal overnight and should be able to purchase your outdoor kitchen immediately.”

Stiles had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.  He had been planning to rebuild his restaurant using insurance money, community dinners, and a small business loan. “Thats amazing,” he replied hoping his confusion was not obvious.

“You and your food are obviously well loved in Beacon Hills,” the reporter said to wrap things up.  “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me.”

“Thank you,” said Stiles relieved the whole thing was over.  “I hope you will stop by for a meal next time you are in town.”

“I look forward to it,” she said politely and signed off. As soon as the camera light stopped blinking, she turned back to Stiles.  “That went well.  Here is my card.  We would love to cover an outdoor dinner as a human interest piece when you are all set up.”

“Thats great.” answered Stiles. “Everyone is always welcome at my restaurant. I’ll send you an email.” The reporter shook his hand and started helping her crew pack up.

Stiles turned to his dad who was tinkering with his phone.  When he saw his son watching, he turned the screen towards him.  Stiles was surprised to see a slightly undignified picture of his own face on a fundraising page.  He grabbed the phone and read with increasing incredulity. It was almost exactly what he would have written except he had absolutely nothing to do with it.

"This isn't me," he exclaimed to his father. "I have to go." He started towards his car.

“Say hello to the Hales for me," called his dad.

Stiles was sitting in his jeep when he realized he had no clue where to find the Hales.  They had always just shown up whether he wanted them to or not.  He didn't even have a phone number, but he had a good guess of who did.

Jackson answered his phone on the first ring. "I was just about to call you," he greeted. "Things are moving faster than we expected so we have to get the paperwork in as soon as possible."

Stiles head started to ache.  He suspected he was in for the third surprise of the morning and he hadn't even been awake two hours.  "What paperwork," he asked cautiously.  

"Well the most time sensitive is forming the foundation for the community outreach portion. We will also need to file a 501c application, but that can wait a couple days," Jackson said.

"I’ll stop by with lunch,” offered Stiles to halt the legal jargon. “In the meantime, can you give me Peter’s address and phone number.” Jackson rattled off the requested information and hung up to return to work.  

As he drove to the apartment building on the nice side of town, Stiles tried to figure out exactly what he wanted to say to Peter.  He suspected it was dangerous to confront the other man without knowing his own mind.  Peter could be insidiously persuasive.

When Stiles knocked at Peter’s apartment, the door across the hall was the first to open. “Hey Stiles, Derek is working right now and he gets super growly if he’s interrupted,” Cora greeted him with a huge smile.

“I’m actually looking for your uncle,” Stiles replied.

Cora pursed her lips. “Peter,” she yelled. “Stiles is here.”  A couple of seconds later, Peter walked out of the apartment next door.

“I’m glad you stopped by,” greeted Peter.  “We have much to discuss.” He walked across the hall and ushered Stiles into his apartment. Peter’s living room was sparsely furnished with elegant wooden furniture.  He definitely seemed to value fashion over comfort.  Grabbing a laptop and folder of papers from the counter, Peter sat himself at the dining room table and indicated for Stiles to take a seat in the chair beside him.

“I am very pleased with our current status. Most of the press coverage of the arson and Mr. Knowley’s arrest has been neutral or sympathetic to our cause.” When the laptop was opened, its screen displayed a detailed spreadsheet of news articles. “Our fundraising is on track as well.” He switched to a second tab on the spreadsheet. “I had to estimate the money earned last night based on headcount because Erica refused to give me the total.”

“Probably because she knows I didn’t ask you to do any of this," Stiles stated to try to reassert some measure of control over the conversation.

"It's no trouble," Peter said with a reassuring tone.  "I like being useful."

Stiles met Peters eyes. "It isn't about trouble.  It is about using me and my restaurant to further your goals without even consulting me."

Peter shook his head sadly. "You are taking a rather dim view of this. I thought we understood each other after our little chat yesterday.  You said you just wanted to feed people.  I am taking care of all the pesky details to allow you to focus on your calling." He looked at Stiles with wide innocent eyes.  Stiles wasn't fooled for a minute.

"You are trying to manipulate me and public perception for political reasons," accused Stiles.

"Obviously," Peter agreed. "But since we both support supernatural rights that is hardly a bad thing.  I spent all of yesterday evening talking to your customers to really understand what they want and need from your establishment."

"Irrelevant," Stiles argued. "I had a plan to meet those needs and you tried to change it without even consulting me.  I found out about the Funds4Me campaign when a reporter was recording an interview for the national news. If you are going to use my name and customers, you need to actually work with me and only do things with my permission."

“There was no time. The fire coupled with Alpha McCall’s ascension to True Alpha created a unique opportunity with the leaders of our movement. There was a natural curiosity about the new Alpha and pack.  I was happy to provide them with information about the Hale pack’s newest allies.  Most were genuinely moved by Alpha McCalls nobility and his young Emissary’s plans to support and strengthen the supernatural community.  In fact, much of the money was donated by Hale contacts.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “You aren’t listening to me,” he said precisely. “My anger isn’t about what you have done but how you are doing it.”

Peter dropped the act and looked Stiles coldly in the eye. “Would you have given me permission if I had asked last night?”

“No,” answered Stiles bluntly.

“Then I think asking for forgiveness is probably a more effective strategy,” Peter concluded. “Now I would like discuss hiring you to cater Laura’s baby shower.”

“We aren't done with this discussion,” Stiles insisted angrily.

“Yes we are.” Peter brushed off Stiles words.  “You are irritated but not enough to refuse the money.  I will be careful not to cross that line because a public disagreement would be damaging. And you can feel free to come by and yell at me as often as your pride demands.  Now, about the menu.”

Stiles stayed for another half an hour discussing simple food options to feed the maximum variety of supernatural beings.  Peter clearly thought he had won, but Stiles knew better because he had lunch plans with Jackson and a idea for adding a helpful little paragraph to the pack alliance treaty.

As he left Peter’s apartment, Cora poked her head out of her door. “Do you want to go to the farmers market in Woodberry this afternoon?” she asked without even a greeting.

“Sounds fun,” Stiles said. He could use a low stress afternoon after the last couple days. “We can stop by Isaac’s stall and steal Cam to walk around the market.”

“Great, Derek wants to go too.  You should totally go together.”  At that moment, Stiles realized just how much Cora resembled her Uncle.  She was quirky benign mini-Peter.  Or perhaps Peter was older jaded Cora.

“You didn’t have to trick me into spending time with your brother.” Stiles said.

“Oh, I know but this way is so much more fun.” Cora grinned.  “He has been debating whether to ask you since he heard you were next door. Really the joke is on him for being pathetic.”

Derek walked out to join his sister.  He was wearing pajama pants and a faded shirt.  Somehow he made college student on laundry day look good. “Cora,” he said exasperatedly. “Can’t you leave me some dignity.”

“Nope,” Cora winked at Stiles and disappeared into what Stiles assumed to be her room.

“The market is only about 45 minutes away and they have a ton of beautiful organic produce this time of year,” Stiles said persuasively. “We can buy mystery vegetables and make dinner.”

“I’d like that,” Derek agreed then smirked.  “But I get to drive.” They exchanged phone numbers and agreed that Derek would pick Stiles up at his Dad’s house at two.

It took Stiles less than a minute to realize that mentioning the farmer’s market trip and dinner to Jackson was a mistake. The lawyer promptly invited himself to attend and texted Lydia with the details.  At least the barrage of text messages as all the members of both packs RSVPed distracted Stiles from boring legal papers. By two o’clock, the not-date with Derek had turned into a combined pack dinner to negotiate and hopefully sign the new alliance treaty.  Of course, Stiles was aware it was his own fault.  His pack knew he usually had a more the merrier attitude to cooking and the Hales seemed oblivious to the convention of waiting to be invited. Really he was lucky that the farmer’s market trip remained just the two of them.

With half a dozen reusable shopping bags and enough cash to buy ingredients for dinner for two werewolf packs, Stiles stood on his father’s porch waiting for Derek to pick him up. He was impressed when a sleek black Tesla pulled into the driveway.

“No fair that you called driving,” Stiles exclaimed as Derek opened the passenger side door.  “I totally want to drive.  Come on I know the way.”

Derek smirked. “I have GPS.”

“But its electric,” pleaded Stiles. “I’ve never driven an electric car.  I heard the techie console makes it like driving a video game.”

“You can watch the ‘techie console’ all the way to the market,” offered Derek. “And I will watch the road. I was on the waiting list for months longer than I’ve even had the car.”

Stiles grumbled and launched them into a discussion of green technology which kept them happily occupied until they pulled into the farmer’s market parking lot.  Stiles gathered up his bags and started instructing Derek on his shopping system.

“First we make a circuit around all the stalls to check out availability, quality, and prices,” Stiles began. “Then I’ll decide what we are going to make for dinner and make a list on my phone.  Last, we buy everything we need.” Derek did not follow the system.  He insisted on buying blackberries and peaches at the first stand they passed.

“We can eat them as a snack while we survey the rest of the market,” Derek argued and bit into a peach. Stiles had to admit that watching Derek eat fruit in the August sunshine was an appealing sight.  When they passed Isaac’s stall, Cam ran out to meet them and appropriated the container of berries.

Their pint sized chaperone led them around to all his favorite stalls.  Before long, Stiles bags were overflowing with a completely random assortment of vegetables.  He had tomatoes, beets, fennel, chard, and berries. So he guessed he was making roasted beet salad and some kind of pasta thing.  Maybe a berry dessert. On the way back to Isaac’s stand, he bought some artisan cheese for the non-vegans to sprinkle on the beets.  Stiles also bought a cookie for Cam at the organic, vegan, gluten free bakery stall because he figured it was only fair to return Cam on a sugar high.  Derek fussed about putting all the produce bags on a blanket in the trunk of his car, but promised to allow Stiles to drive part of the way back.

When they got back to the house, Stiles put Derek to work peeling and chopping beets while he started thawing chicken breasts and boiling water to shock the skin off the tomatoes.  There was a method to cooking for almost two dozen people in a small home kitchen and Stiles had it down to a science. Derek helped as Stiles directed and made the time pass quickly by telling Stiles about his new project updating a middle school health book.  

"The publisher gave me notes from a focus group of parents and teachers about what new information they would like to see included, but half of them contradict each other," Derek explained. "My editor suggested I write two versions to 'accommodate regional differences'." Derek looked highly disgruntled.  "I refuse to write inaccurate information about sex, sexuality, and birth control."

"I would too," agreed Stiles.

"I think I am going to write two different levels of detail and include a very detailed list of references for further reading," said Derek.

"That sounds like a good compromise." Stiles put Derek to work squeezing and cutting skinned tomatoes while he hunted for the vegan margarine he knew he had in his father's freezer.  The Rabitzen (Rabi’s wife) had turned him on to the easy way to make vegan (and parve) desserts.

"My health class in high school was kind of a joke.  It was taught by the lacrosse coach and very rarely stayed on topic," Stiles paused. "Or maybe all the movie quotes were an analogy no one understood."

Derek laughed, "Mine was taught by a first year teacher who was obviously very uncomfortable with the subject matter.  We had a game to see how many times we could get her to blush and tell us to 'ask a trusted adult' per class period.

Jackson, Scott, Laura, and Peter showed up to review the new treaty around six.  Peter tried to excise the paragraph Stiles had sent Jackson assigning Stiles restaurant to run semi-autonomously under Stiles authority and Scott’s Alpha oversight. He argued that Scott would approve whatever Stiles proposed which obviously was exactly the point.  Laura felt it would be inappropriate to interfere with Scott’s Emissary without his permission so Stiles edits stayed.  Stiles was not naive enough to think that was the end of Peters interference, but it at least gave him a fighting chance.

By six thirty, the rest of the Hale and McCall packs were scattered between the dining room table and extra seating in the Sheriff's living room eating dinner. Stiles was slightly surprised by the feeling of rightness he felt surrounded by his pack.  It was like a warmth settling into his skin from the direction of all of his friends.  He didn’t have to turn his head to know Scott was coming up behind him.

“Can you feel the pack bonds too?” Stiles asked quietly.

“I started feeling them last night, but they are stronger today,” Scott confirmed. “I didn’t used to care that much about whether I ever became an Alpha. I don’t need the power, but this is nice.”

“Yeah,” agreed Stiles.  He felt connected to his friends and at peace with the world. “I wish it had happened differently, but we can make something stronger out of the ashes.”

“You’re totally poetic man,” said Scott breaking the mood.

“Lets sign a treaty,” Stiles laughed.

This time, the treaty signing went off without a hitch.  Less than half the McCall pack actually listened while Laura read the treaty aloud, but all that was required to make it official was the signatures of the Alphas and seconds. Then everyone helped themselves to more food in celebration.

Stiles was taking more beets when he noticed Cam spooning cheese onto his noodles.

“That’s dairy cheese bud,” Stiles informed him apologetically.

“Sorry,” said Cam looking at his shoes.

“No need to apologize,” answered Stiles.  He was wondering if he should have just ignored it.  Cam was starting kindergarten in a couple weeks. He made a mental note to talk to Isaac when he had a chance. “Do you want to help me dish up the berry crisp?”

Cam abandoned his plate and eagerly volunteered to help serve dessert.

That day set the trend for the next two months.  Stiles verbally wrestled with Peter, hung out with Derek, and worked on the surprisingly complicated process of designing his new restaurant. On the second Saturday in October, he stood just outside his newly constructed outdoor dining shelter and reread his note cards nervously.  Inside his customers and a small news crew were eating the last of their dinners and waiting for him to present on the final plans for the new building. He hated public speaking, but Derek had promised to be sitting at one of the front tables to encourage him.  Stiles may have lost control of his life, but it was coming together into something good. He took a deep breath and stepped out in front of the crowd.


	2. Goblin Platter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles makes a new plan and his father finally gets to execute an old one.

  * _Pile a variety of meat on a large plate_

  * _Goblin platter can be ordered fresh, slightly off, or rancid_

  * _Fresh meat can be cooked to order, but meat that is passed its serve by date must be served raw to avoid contamination_

  * _Comes with ale, beer, or cider_




_Note:_

_Goblins are immune to food poisoning due to meat that is past its serve by date.  Seat patrons that prefer rancid meat as far as possible from patrons with enhanced senses of smell._

******************

People come to restaurants for many different reasons.  Some want a night out with family or friends.  Some are craving food they can't make at home.  And many just don't want to cook. Stiles always welcomed everyone regardless of their reasons, but his favorite patrons were those who came seeking community.  Even if the community was a little smelly.

The first goblin special had happened by accident.  A mother and son had come to a fresh game night and complained the meat was too fresh.  Apparently, it needed to sit out for a couple days to 'age'.

"It's hot enough that if you just leave it in the sun it should be ready by tomorrow evening," the mother goblin explained.

Stiles took out a notebook.  The only information he had on goblin diets was that they were carnivores. "Do you have a preferred age of the meat?" He asked.

"I like it just old enough to develop its aroma and get the flies really buzzing," the mother goblin said eagerly.

“I think it tastes better just after the mold starts to grow,” her son added.

"Any preferred cuts or additional preparation?" Stiles questioned.  He was already mentally planning how he could prevent wasted food by hosting a goblin night.

"Some nice crunchy bones are always appreciated.  Like ribs or toes,” the mother goblin explained.  Stiles decided not to think about the animals usually described as having toes. "My mom used to put a little pond water in the bottom of the sunning pan to really get the flavors going."

Stiles had promised to prepare a test entree for the next night and the goblins had promised to bring a couple friends to try it out.  It took several iterations to get the recipe just right, but less than six months after he served his first goblin customer, Stiles Restaurant was taken over by a large party of goblins.  They eat raucously while drinking large glasses of beer and tipped very well.  Stiles appreciated the opportunity a learn about another group of supernaturals and sell any expired meat. He added Goblin night to the calendar as a regular monthly special.

When Stiles restaurant burned, the calendar burned with it, but Stiles had it backed up on his phone.  The day after the treaty signing, he printed out a copy and sat down to figure out an interim schedule for while his restaurant was being rebuilt.   As much as he would like to continue serving his whole menu, Stiles knew it would be temporarily impossible.

Stiles color coded all the special diets based on difficulty and availability elsewhere.  He decided the Fae, selkie, and goblin specials could be continued as scheduled.  The food was fairly straight forward to prepare with even the most basic kitchen setup and these species should be happy to eat outside.  It might be possible to continue vampire and werewolf nights as well.  Stiles made a mental note to ask Jackson about how his current status effected his liquor license.

With a quick email to his mailing list and an update to his website, Stiles had a new schedule for his days.  The mornings were spent running around town talking to people. He worked with an architect to plan the new building, met with local supernatural leaders and customers to make sure the plans would meet their needs, and tried to keep arguing with Peter to a minimum.  

In hindsight, it had been a mistake to show he could handle talking to the media.  Peter reported that his short speech had been turned into a popular gif set on tumblr and had led to a surge in donations to the Funds4Me page.  As a reward, he let Stiles choose the next set of stretch goals. The punishment was that Stiles found himself surprised by reporters at least once a week.  Due to part Peter's deft manipulation, national interest in the arson and investigation continued and sparked some excellent conversations about prejudice and supernatural rights.

Stiles was reluctant to admit that Peter was right about anything, but the outdoor kitchen was a good idea and everyone he talked to was excited about the community room and expanded services. He made the mistake of showing Peter the plans for the outdoor kitchen.

“Excellent,” Peter approved. “Now we just need to get these over to Cora and she can begin construction immediately.”

“What?” asked Stiles incredulously. “Has Cora ever done construction?”  As he spoke, Stiles realized he had no clue what any of the Hales except Derek did for a living.  Peter appeared to be a professional meddler, but Cora probably worked.

“Of course,” said Peter.  “I would hardly recommend anyone unqualified for the job. She did construction in New York. Have you applied for permits yet?”

Stiles was learning the vital importance of picking your battles with Peter and he didn’t actually have any objection to hiring Cora as a contractor. “I have an appointment with the city planner tomorrow, but he thought it should be fairly straight forward.”  Cora walked into Peter’s apartment as Stiles finished speaking.

“Oooh, drawings,” she exclaimed and snatched the plans off the table. Cora looked them over carefully. “This looks like fun. Can I draft Boyd or Erica to help with construction?  Some of this will need more than one pair of hands.”

“Feel free to ask them,” Stiles consented.  He hoped he was making the right choice, but Cora was looking at the plans with a reassuring competence.

“K, I’ll need the exact measurements of your grills, sinks, and refrigerators as soon as possible,” muttered Cora and then she wandered out the door with the plans.  Clearly, the only reasonable thing for Stiles to do was go home to finalize his purchases and email the details to Cora.

By the end of the week, Stiles decided he was going to recommend Cora to all his customers. She worked tirelessly and precisely, taking full advantage of her werewolf strength.  Erica hired herself to assist and Boyd was available whenever they needed another set of hands. Stiles initially worried that Erica and Cora would but heads. Instead they immediately bonded into a team to make his life ‘interesting’.

“Have you seen my brother yet today?” Cora asked when Stiles stopped by at the beginning of the third week of construction. The shell of the kitchen was just waiting for the appliances to arrive and Cora was finishing up setting the columns to support the eating area roof.

“Nope,” answered Stiles. In the six weeks since the fire, Stiles and Derek had found frequent opportunities to hang out.  They were becoming close friends.  But every once and a while there was an edge to their interactions.  Stiles thought they were both wondering when their friendship was going to cross that line into more. Derek had made it clear that it was Stiles choice and he thought about it frequently...and heatedly. But when it came to actually making a move, he brain fuzzed and Stiles was convinced that if he opened his mouth nothing but nonsense would come out.  

“Well, he has been babbling at me non stop about how much he wants to see a new documentary on industrial farming that is playing in San Francisco.” It was possible Cora was as invested in the relationship as either of the directly involved parties.  She provided an unending stream of useful intel and terrible ideas.

“You should go together,” urged Erica.

“That sounds cheery.” Unethical treatment of animals did not seem like the way to move them forward.  Besides, Derek’s veganism was more about environmentalism that love of animals. “I was thinking of inviting him over to watch the new Marvel movie.”

Cora nodded her approval. “Good idea, he thinks Bucky Barnes is really hot.” Just what Stiles needed to know.  Not that he disagreed, but he was more of a Captain America man himself.  Excelent, that gave them something to talk about. Unless you weren't supposed to debate the attractiveness of other guys on a not-date.  Stiles was so bad at this.

“You can call him right now,” said Erica persuasively.

“Nope,” said Stiles to be contrary. “I’ll text so you nosy nellies can’t eavesdrop.” Both girls accepted this compromise with smirks of victory. Derek quickly replied that he would be done with work by six and Stiles went back to his father’s house to cook.

There was nothing Stiles could do about his lack of dating experience but he could make sure there were plenty of snacks to ease awkward moments.  By the time Derek arrived, Stiles had made roast vegetable flatbreads, fruit salad, iced tea, and vegan caramel corn which was totally overkill.  But yummy.

Derek definitely seemed appreciative.  They ate on the living room couch alternating bites of food with chatting about Cora's progress on construction and the nonsensical notes Derek had received on the health book draft.

"Apparently, I make sexual intercourse between consenting adults sound healthy, normal, and possibly even fun,” Derek explained exasperated.

“I have heard that is the case,” agreed Stiles.

Derek got a funny look on his face.  “You don’t know you yourself?” he inquired.

“Nope,” he said succinctly.  When Derek looked sceptical he added.  “You knew this. I was serving virgin blood cocktails the night we met.”

“I didn’t realize the blood was yours.” countered Derek.

“Its not that big of a deal,” said Stiles. “I didn’t plan to be a twenty-six year old virgin, but sex just never happened and then it became a thing...and an unusual business opportunity. But it really isn’t anymore because I like you.” Apparently, he could only talk coherently about sex if it didn’t relate to him.

Derek quirked an eyebrow. “Really.”

Stiles couldn’t think of anything to say. This was a very stupid and embarrassing conversation.  Derek had made his interest blatant and it seemed like a good time to do something about that. So Stiles leaned over and kissed Derek.  The other man kissed him back without even a hint of hesitation.  Derek rested one hand gently on Stiles shoulder and put the other around his waist to draw him closer. Stiles lost his balance and fell into Derek’s chest, but that was okay because it was a nice chest.  Warm and hard. It vibrated when Derek moaned and Stiles was happy to let Derek support his weight.  They were starting to relax into a fun, sexy makeout session when the front door banged open.

“Stiles guess what?” asked his dad as he walked into the living room.  “We have a court date.” He saw Derek and Stiles on couch.  “Hi Derek, don’t move.”  He ran up the stairs and came back a second later bearing a dusty box. “Catch,” he commanded as he chucked the box at his son.

Derek snatched it out of the air after Stiles missed. “Condoms?” he questioned examining the item in his hand. “That expired in 2009?”

“I bought them when Stiles was in high school," explained his father.

"Dad!" Stiles wailed embarrassed.

“I had to be ready to embarrass him when I inevitably walked in on him necking on the couch,” continued the Sheriff.  “Admittedly I was expecting it to happen a bit sooner.”

“I can’t believe you. I am going to remember this next time you ask for bacon,” threatened Stiles.

“Oh, I’m remembering all the times you made me eat tofu,” said his father gleefully and then assumed his best Sheriff expression.

"Son, when you are ready, I hope you get to experience intimacy with a partner.  However before you take that step, there are several things you need to know."

"Oh my god," Stiles put his hands over his ears.  "I am a grown up.  I refuse to listen to this."

"Practicing safer sex is important for both you and your partner," the Sheriff continued undeterred.

"Werewolves are immune to most STDs and can't transmit them to humans," Derek added helpfully.

"Then I suppose it doesn't matter that the condoms are a little old," the sheriff replied.

"Yes it does, why would you do this to me?" Stiles asked his father, then turned to Derek. “Next time we are making out at your place.”

“I live with Cora,” Derek reminded him apologetically. Stiles shuddered to think of what she would do in a similar situation.

"I'm working the night shift all next week,” offered the Sheriff.

“That works,” agreed Derek.

“We are not scheduling my sex life in an open forum,” insisted Stiles.  As he clearly could not win this discussion he decided to try distraction.  “What was that about a court date?”

“The start date for the trial of Mr. Knowley and his accomplices has been set for November 10th," explained the Sheriff. "The prosecutor believes she has a strong case, but you should both plan to be available to testify."

"Cool, I'll make sure to keep mid November open," agreed Stiles.

“Glad we had this chat. Now I’m going upstairs to play loud music,” announced the Sheriff.

“Thats not necessary,” said Derek.  “We were just going to start a movie.” Stiles was slightly relieved the Derek realized the mood had been completely killed.

“There’s food in the kitchen,” added Stiles.

“Is it healthy?” asked the Sheriff suspiciously.

“Its vegan,” answered Derek cheerfully and Stiles realized that this relationship was going to work.  They were awkward and bad at talking, but they shared a passion for food and understood crazy family.  Many a successful partnership had been built on less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Chanukah to all my Jewish readers!


	3. Baby Shower Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The building plans are complete and cheese is awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphics template [designed by Freepik](http://www.freepik.com/free-vector/baby-shower-floral-invitation-card_722477.htm). It was in the free license that I had to include the link :)
> 
> Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it.

************************

When Stiles had first agreed to cater Laura's baby shower, he had pictured an intimate affair for pack and close friends.  After Cora told him she was in charge of planning the event, he raised his guest estimate to fifty.  Then he heard that Peter was helping with the guest list.

"There are going to be 200 guests from over 15 species," Stiles confirmed.

"Yes and we need the standard omnivore and vegan options as well," Cora answered calmly. Of course she did.

"Where are you hosting the shower?” Stiles asked cautiously.  He knew enough of the Hale pack to fear where this was going.

“At the restaurant of course.”  Cora obviously thought this line of questioning was silly.

“The restaurant burnt down,” Stiles reminded her gently.

“Yes, but I built you a shelter,” Cora responded.  “There were more people at the building plan reveal dinner last week and I don't think Uncle Peter is inviting the media."  Cora looked pensive. "I should probably confirm that."

“True, but the menu was far simpler,” Stiles protested.

“Can you do it?” challenged Cora.

“Probably...with sufficient help.” Stiles admitted reluctantly. “But I want to make sure you realize you are proposing to host an outdoor baby shower for 15 species in November.”

“Exactly,” agreed Cora. “Most supernaturals aren’t really bothered by the cold.” Stiles supposed that was true, but he was bothered by it.

“Are you sure this is what Laura wants?” Stiles suspected the baby shower had been co opted by Peter's latest political gambit. “It sounds a bit overwhelming.”

Cora cocked her head to the side and briefly considered his words.  “Laura wasn’t planning on having a official baby shower at all.  She was planning to just have a pizza and movie night with the pack.  Peter convinced her it would be a good excuse to get everyone together.  The leaders of different species rarely talk unless something is going catastrophically wrong.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Stiles agreed. “But does it have to be outside in November.  Surely a made up ceremony to welcome the baby in early spring would be a better idea.

"Too late, we already sent out invitations for November 8th at 3pm," Cora informed him. "I know it will conflict with your usual werewolf night, but I figured we could just invite them all to the party."

Stiles knew when he had lost. "What is the budget?" He asked.  So far he hadn't seen a cent from Peter's fundraising campaign, but he hadn't received a bill for Cora's materials or labor either.  Erica and Boyd had been paid for their assistance by Peter so Stiles was assuming Peter had taken it upon himself to administer the funds.  

"Would $35 per adult plus a $2000 facility fee be acceptable?  Peter will get you a check for half the money now and we will pay the rest when we confirm final count five days before the event," Cora offered.

Stiles usually only charged for food when the restaurant held private events, but he wasn’t going to tell the Hales that.  Call it a Peter fee. “That will be acceptable,” he agreed.

“Perfect, Derek will be over with the money later today,” Cora finished.

“You do realize that I am enjoying dating your brother and don’t need to tricked into spending time with him.”

“Thats wonderful," Cora gave a sunny smile and prepared herself for gossip. "Derek never tells me anything.  I want to hear about all the parts that don’t involve sex.” she paused expectantly, but Stiles didn't say anything.  He had discussed recent developments at length with Scott and Erica, but he figured Derek had the right to decide what to tell his family.

"If you want to talk about sex I’ll get Erica over here or Isaac," continued Cora.  "Isaac likes talking about sex."  

Stiles wasn’t going to touch that one, but he planned to grill Isaac the next time he saw him. It was definitely time to change topics.

"I got the revised plans from the architect yesterday morning.  I am very pleased with how she incorporated all the feedback we got at the last community dinner," began Stiles.

"Did you decide to add the mother's room?" asked Cora.  Stiles had been surprised that the most frequently requested change was adding a comfortable place to change diapers and nurse.  When Erica had shiftily endorsed the idea, Stiles knew it was something he had to include.  "Yes, but Allison has lost her exercise equipment storage closet."

"I can make some built-ins in the community room," offered Cora.  "When are you getting the final drawings from the engineers?"

"Two weeks, but I wanted to host a groundbreaking brunch a week from Sunday."

Stiles was ridiculously excited about the new building.  It would be almost twice the size of the old restaurant.  There would be a community room for exercise classes, private events, and whatever else people could think of.  Since unveiling the building plans he had received emails from people interested in using the space for everything from a open play session for preschoolers to an atheist assembly on Sunday mornings.  

The new building would also have a greatly expanded kitchen carefully designed to maximize the number of diets Stiles could accommodate.  And there would be a studio apartment and office for him on the second floor.  Stiles was really looking forward to having a better space for taking care of the business side of the restaurant and a bedroom with air conditioning.

"Cool, I will have the site cleaned up by then. Do you want me to tell my Uncle?" Cora offered.

"I have to go talk to him anyway,” Stiles replied. “Unless you know what water sprites eat."

"No clue, but we put a dietary preference questionnaire on the RSVP cards so you will probably get some clues there."

The discussion with Peter predictably turned into a veiled argument over how to maximize the PR potential of the groundbreaking ceremony.  Stiles initially claimed he only wanted regular customers in attendance, but allowed himself to talked into opening up the event to the entire town and one carefully chosen local reporter.

Pleased with his victory, Stiles went to find Isaac. The werewolf gave Stiles a quick rundown on the produce he should have available for both upcoming events and agreed to make extra trips to San Francisco for fish.  Business complete, Stiles was free to begin the interrogation.

“I heard something very interesting today,” Stiles teased. He was expecting Isaac to shrug and admit to everything. Isaac had never been particularly discreet about his romantic endeavors. Instead he shuffled his feet and refused to meet Stiles eyes.

“Does everyone know?” he asked plaintively.

“I doubt it,” Stiles replied. “I don’t really know either, Cora just mentioned something.”

“Jen is going to kill me,” Isaac said.  Stiles had always thought that Isaac and Cam’s mother were the model for healthy ex’s and co-parents.  It surprised him to hear that Isaac expected her to disapprove.

“Are you sure she will mind?” Stiles inquired hesitantly. He knew Isaac hadn’t had any serious relationships since Cam’s birth, but Stiles thought he had occasional casual things when Jen had Cam.

Isaac paced, “I know she will.  Its this huge ethical thing for her and the only thing she insisted on when we split custody. But Cam is in kindergarten and I don’t see how I can monitor everything he eats.”

“I think we are having two different conversations.” Stiles observed.  “I am talking about the fact Cora hinted there was something between you.”

“Oh, yeah, we hooked up once.  I’m kind of hoping it will happen again.” Isaac acknowledged distractedly.  “But the real issue is that Cam loves cheese.” Isaac paused waiting the words to sink in, but Stiles utterly failed to produce any negative reaction.  “Jen called me all upset because someone gave it to him as a snack and he spent the whole ride home expounding on the wonders of cheese.”

Stile had trouble smothering a laugh, “Cheese is pretty awesome.”

“I've been finding string cheese wrappers in his lunchbox,” Isaac continued as if he was discussing an illegal substance.  “I think he is trading other kids for them.”

“Okay, let me make sure I have this right. Cam is eating cheese.”

“Yes,” confirmed Isaac.

“Do you care if Cam is vegan?” asked Stiles.  The parents of young children did have the right to decide their diet as long as it provided enough calories and nutrients. However, Cam was getting old enough to have some say and Isaac should definitely get a vote.

“Not in the slightest.  I like cheese too,” acknowledged Isaac. “The only reason I care is because Jen will freak.  A friend of mine at the market makes individually wrapped organic cheese slices made with the milk of pasture raised cows.  I would love to support his business and pack it in Cam’s lunches.”

Stiles shrugged. “Then you really need to talk to Jen."

"Yeah," Isaac acknowledged. "I needed to talk to her anyway.  She has been dropping him off at school on Monday morning and picking him up Friday afternoon.  Our arrangement used to be fair but now that he is in school full day I barely see him."

"That sounds hard," Stiles agreed. "Jen has always been reasonable in the past.  Hopefully you guys can work out a fair compromise."

"I have an idea,” Isaac proposed hesitantly. “Talking to Derek about his choices has made me think more seriously about going vegetarian.  I could build a chicken coop to keep laying hens and only buy dairy from people I know personally at the farmers market.”

"That sounds like a great plan.  I will happily buy any extra eggs you produce," Stiles agreed enthusiastically.  "And the chickens when they are done laying."

“I am hoping that if I can minimize the ethical issues, Jen will be happier about Cam being vegetarian when I have him.” Isaac explained.  “She can feed him whatever she wants when she had custody. I am also going to ask for some time on the weekends.”

“Sounds reasonable to me, good luck,” said Stiles. “Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

“Could you ask Cora if she knows anything about building chicken coops?” asked Isaac hopefully.

“Absolutely,” agreed Stiles.  As soon as he was out of earshot he called up Cora to tell her all about how the restaurant was going to be buying eggs from a new supplier, but they needed a little help with their building a coop.  If he could help Isaac while giving Cora a taste of her own medicine, then everyone won.

Minor meddling accomplished, he turned his mind to his own hot romance.  Because if Cora was ‘helping’ Isaac then Derek was home alone.  It was his duty as an awesome boyfriend to go keep him company.  He went back to his Dad’s house to shower and give Cora time to clear out then showed up at the Hale siblings apartment.

“Hows your writing going?” he asked to gauge how much of a distraction he should aim to be.

“I was just about to declare myself done for the day,” answered Derek while shutting down his computer. “I have plenty of food for dinner.  Would you like to join me for wilted spinach salad with roasted butternut squash and walnuts?”  

“Yum,” agreed Stiles happily.  “Do you want me to start chopping?”

“Nope, why don’t you make a dressing,” suggested Derek. Stiles had always loved cooking, but he was finding that cooking with a boyfriend was even better.  They worked seamlessly together and gave each other little pats and kisses whenever they crossed paths.  Cora said they were sickening to watch, but Stiles knew she approved.  In sort order, everything was prepped and the squash was in the oven.

“Whatever will we do with the 30 minutes until the squash is done?” inquired Stiles archly.

Derek didn’t even answer. He just swept Stiles into his arms and deposited him on the couch.  Stiles relaxed into the cushions and pulled Derek down on top of him.  Either kissing Derek was a bit of a time warp or the oven timer was broken because there is no way they made out for half an hour.  It felt more like ten minutes of feverish fumbling and caresses until they were rudely interrupted with a loud beeping.

"Stay," said Stiles gruffly as he slid out from underneath the other man.

Derek rolled his eyes and didn't exactly follow directions.  By the time Stiles returned from pulling the food out of the oven, Derek had rearranged himself so he was laying cockily on the couch with one leg over the side and his hands behind his head in blatant invitation. An invitation that Stiles was eager to accept.

Dinner was cold, but Stiles was very happy.


	4. Children's Menu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wards the site for the new restaurant, but Cam is more interested in cheese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A more complete explanation of Stiles Judaism can be found in the [Hanukkah outtake](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2795666). However, it is more my head cannon than something that will figure into the plot of the series.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter in the end notes.

_ Breastfeeding: _

_Stiles restaurant is a breastfeeding friendly establishment.  Feel free to feed your child anywhere that is comfortable for you.  If you would prefer a discreet place to nurse, ask any employee for the key to the Mother’s Room.  It is equipped with a comfortable chair, sink, outlet and changing table.  Please knock before entering._

_ Infants and Toddlers _

_Brown rice, seasonal steamed vegetables, and homemade applesauce.  Available in soft bite sized pieces or pureed. (vegan)_

_ Young Children (10 and under) _

  * _Yummy noodles: Noodles and seasonal steamed veggies tossed with butter and cheddar cheese_

  * _Stir fry: chicken or tofu stir fried with veggies and served with a sweet teriyaki sauce and rice (vegan optional, no gluten ingredients)_

  * _Peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwich: served on white or whole wheat bread with a side of fruit or steamed veggies (vegan)_

  * _Grilled cheese:  served on white or whole wheat bread with a side of fruit or steamed veggies._




_ Older children, seniors, or anyone who wants less food _

_Half sized portions of most of our entrees are available for $4 less than menu price.  Ask server for details._

*********

The morning of the groundbreaking brunch was both literally and figuratively the calm before the storm.  The morning dawned clear and cold.  Everyone huddled together in the dining shelter drinking warm beverages and chatting about the finalized plans for the new building.  Half the crowd was late due to the beginning of daylight savings time, but Stiles didn’t mind.  He enjoyed getting a chance to greet everyone as they trickled in.  Someone (Peter) had added a bright stip of paper to top of the engineering drawings labeling them “Phase one”.  Whatever phase two was, would have to wait because Stiles was going to enjoy this last day of sanity.

All three grills were working making pancakes, eggs, three different kinds of sausages, two kinds of bacon, and hash browns.  It really was the simplest combination he could cook while making sure everyone could eat.  The red grill was used for meat and omnivore entrees, the green grill was vegan, and the blue grill was for preparing kosher food.  It was currently dairy, but he had a blowtorch if he needed to change that.

When everyone was full to bursting Stiles stood to address the group. “Thank you for coming to share a meal and witness the first step in building a new home for our restaurant. We are here to start something new, untainted by the past.  I would like to do a working to ward and cleanse the property.  It will be stronger when worked in the presence of our community, but I understand that some would prefer not to be involved with magics.”  

As Stiles had expected, all the observant Jews quietly left. He had often wondered why the somewhat insular community was so willing to accept him. Then something would happen to remind him that he was a valued ally, but he was not part of their group.  A couple of words about his Mother and Grandmother could change that, but not necessarily for the better.  Stiles had asked the Rabbi once why he didn’t object to Stiles using magic. The Rabbi had shrugged. “Why would I mind any more than I mind you cooking pork? You aren’t Jewish.” he answered simply.

When Stiles was sure that everyone who remained intended to be there, he continued.  “In a little over a week, the trial begins for the men who conspired to burn us out.  We want truth and justice, but mostly we want to live in fellowship with our community and in peace with our neighbors. Today is not about anger or looking back on what we have lost.  It is about claiming a safe place for ourselves.  May all friends enter freely and evil eyes be turned away.”

Stiles started walking around the perimeter pouring a combination of maple syrup, sea salt, ash from the arson.  His breath carried the latin chant.  It had been a challenge to decide how to best represent the four elements in the working until Deaton had reminded him that the spell would grow out of his mind.  Traditional representation was far less important than personal meaning. Because Stiles did not believe in a higher power, but he believed in people.  He believed in the warm spot in the back of his mind that connected him to his pack and the community they had built by sharing time and food.  He believed in his growing relationship with the Hales and larger supernatural rights movement.  And finally, he believed in change and personal growth. Their new restaurant would be protected by all of these things.  It would be defined by the safe place it created, not the fire that destroyed its predecessor.  

As he finished his circle he felt the magic take hold. It swept in from the edges like a warm and gentle wave lapping at the ankles of all those assembled. Most people seemed oblivious, but Peter watched him steadily.  As the feeling of power receded, Peter approached him.

“I have underestimated you,” he said silkily.

Stiles was tempted to quip that Peter had better not forget it, but instead he simply nodded. “I am more interested in cooking than magic.”

“Perhaps, but that does not change the fact that all those that enter the wards and are sensitive to such things will know of your abilities.  It is not a bad thing,” Peter mused.  “In fact, it may be very useful to you in the coming week.”

“Maybe I should have waited until after the shower,” Stiles suggested.

“No, no, this will work out just fine,” Peter assured him.  “You still let me in so they are tuned properly.”  

“The wards are triggered by danger and ill will, not people I dislike,” Stiles snapped.

Peter just smiled, “Excellent, that is very good to know.” As always, Peter was quick to fold any advantage into his plans.  

Cam ran up to join then. "That was so cool," he cried.  "You made glowing letters just like Princess Presto."  Stiles momentarily hoped that Peter would be one of those men who was annoyed by children.  He should have known better.

"Wow," said Peter imitating childish enthusiasm. "Can you still see them?"

Cam squinted for second before answering. "Yes, they are yellow." He paused and then added.  "I don't like red numbers.  They are angry and reading is more funner than counting."

Peter nodded seriously. "I don't like them either.  You should tell your father, Stiles, or I if you see any."

"Okay, do you have any cheese?" Cam asked moving on to a subject far dearer to his heart.

"Not on me, but I happen to know there is a big block of cheddar in Stiles refrigerator," confided Peter.

"We should go eat it," said Cam seriously and started off determinably in the direction of the fridge.  

Stiles wasn't sure if Cam was still theoretically vegan so he went to go check in with Isaac.

"Peter is feeding your son cheese," he reported.  

"I should probably go stop that," Isaac said, but made no made to retrieve his son.

"Because of Peter or the cheese," Stiles inquired.

"Peter," Isaac answered. "If Jen wants his diet monitored she can do it herself," Isaac said.  Stiles had only seen Cam's mother briefly that morning while serving pancakes.  She had replied with uncharacteristic awkwardness to his warm greeting.  

"Is that because you fixed things with Jen," Stiles asked cautiously.  Isaac looked tired and stressed out.

"Nope, it is all falling apart. I broached the topic of renegotiating some parenting things on the phone last week and we agreed that she would come a little early Friday so we could talk while Cam was still in school.”  Isaac looked down at the ground and shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“Everything started out really well.  She brought a couple print outs about one of the choice schools in her area with a strong environmental and community focus.  It looked like a fantastic program and its test scores were higher than Beacon Hills Elementary.  When she said they had a spot for Cam starting in a week, I thought it was a positive sign.  Like, now we both had something we wanted.  I was going to ask for a change in diet and one Saturday a month, but if she thought switching schools and days would be better for Cam I was happy to compromise,” Isaac continued.

“I’m guessing that wasn’t the only change she wanted?” Stiles prompted.

“When I said I would be willing to let Cam change schools, she asked if I could pick him up on Wednesdays.  She negotiated better hours for her job so that she can be with Cam before and after school, but she will need to work until 10PM on Wednesdays,” said Isaac.

“That could actually work out well,” Stiles commented. “You will get an afternoon with Cam in the middle of the week.” So far he wasn’t seeing why Isaac seemed unhappy.

“Yeah, Jen said it would probably be too much driving to take Cam back to Beacon Hills so she would give me a key to her place. We could do whatever we wanted in the afternoon then I could put him to bed and wait for Jen to get home.  I was feeling very optimistic then she said.  Great, that's settled let's talk about when you can visit on the weekends."

“Wait what?” exclaimed Stiles confused.  “I thought you were switching days not giving up custody.”

“Me too,” agreed Isaac.  “I just sat there stunned while Jen started talking about how she was so glad I understood that Beacon Hills just wasn’t a safe place for a child like Cam and that I was a fantastic father so she would find lots of ways for me to spend time with him.”

“That’s horrible and what exactly does she mean by ‘child like Cam’,” asked Stiles.

“I have no clue.  I have suspected for a while that he may be a spark, but I’m not sure that Jen has picked up on it.  She could mean a vegan child or even a kid whose dad is a werewolf,” Isaac continued.  “I was too flustered to ask.”

“On a completely separate note, yes, Cam is a spark, but we can deal with that later. What did you do?”

“I told her that I expected him to live in Beacon Hills on the weekends if he lived in San Francisco during the week. She looked stunned and then started yelling about how Cam almost burned in a fire and my pack was making it worse.”

“How exactly are we doing that?” Stiles thought that everything they were doing was making things better.

“Apparently, we keep bringing attention to ourselves.  She said she completely supports what we are doing, but that we are also making ourselves into bigger targets.  She said there is going to be more violence and she can't let her son to get caught in it.”  Isaac’s voice rose with every sentence.  

“She is scared,” Stiles realized. Her fear wasn't even unreasonable but her reaction to it was.   

“Yes, sometimes I’m scared too, but I’m not going to stop.  I think it is good for Cam to see us working for a cause we believe in.  Another attack is always possible, but we can’t make all our choices out of fear." Isaac paused and then looked up at Stiles.  "Maybe I am just selfish or a terrible father but I want to spend time with my son. If I think there is a real threat, I will be be the first to get Cam out of Beacon Hills.”

"You are an excellent father," Stiles assured him.  "Cam loves you and it would be cruel separate the two of you.  So what happens now?"

"I don’t know.  We never had a legal custody agreement, we just talked it out before Cam was born and adjusted when necessary.  Neither of us have ever paid child support.  I guess I could talk to Jackson, but I have a feeling the courts would side with Jen." Stiles privately agreed, but saw no benefit in being pessimistic.

“She brought him here today on the weekend.  That has to be a good sign," Stiles encouraged. "And you have a week to work it out.”

“Yeah, she did agree he would be back with me Monday, but I'm not supposed to take him to 'supernatural things'  without her."

"What does she think she will be able to do to protect him that you can't?" Questioned Stiles.  They had to be missing something.  This whole thing made no sense.  Stiles had always liked Jen.  She was a good person who up until now had always treated Isaac fairly.

“No clue, " answered Isaac.  "We are going to talk again Monday morning."

"Good luck," Stiles wished him sincerely.

Isaac waved his thanks and walked over to join Peter and his son.

Stiles stared after him with his peace of mind shattered.  For the first time, it occurred to him that things might not work out.  Jen could probably take full custody and it was possible that Mr. Knowley would walk.  People had been acquitted of worse crimes with more evidence.  He circulated the dining shelter trying to calm himself with the familiar rhythms of serving food and chatting with regulars, but he was only partially successful. Stiles considered trying to talk to Jen, but doubted his ability to be coherent or constructive. By the time everyone left, Stiles was feeling calmer, but no more optimistic.

The McCall pack could feel his mood and tried to help by pitching in with the clean up.  But Erica’s chatter was grating and he couldn’t follow Lydia’s rant about the idiotic peer review of her latest journal article. He was about to go back to his dad’s place to veg out to mindless television when he overheard Allison talking to Isaac.

“I have been emailing with a beta in the Portland pack who swears that yoga brought their pack bond to a new dimension,” she enthused.  “Scott and I have been doing the exercises at home, but it should be more effective with the whole pack.”

“I don’t know,” Isaac demurred.  He had managed to act mostly normal until Jen and Cam left, but now he looked miserable.

“How about we all come back to my dad’s place and watch a movie first,” suggested Stiles. They all spent the afternoon snuggled together in the Stilinski living room basking in the pack bonds and drawing strength for the coming weeks.  After each movie, Allison tried to rouse them for yoga, but no one was very motivated to get up.  

On Monday, it began to rain heavily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of custody battles and parental angst.


	5. Beef Stew For a Harpy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cooking for the baby shower is complicated by 40 unexpected guests and Derek 'helping'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!

_Recommended ingredients for one serving of beef stew for a Harpy_

  * _½ cup vegetable oil_

  * _1 head of celery_

  * _12 carrots_

  * _6 onions_

  * _2 heads of garlic_

  * _¾ cup tomato paste_

  * _½ gallon dry red wine_

  * _⅔ cup Dijon mustard_

  * _15 lbs boneless chuck roast_

  * _4 lbs mushrooms_

  * _1 gallon low-sodium beef broth_

  * _8 bay leafs_

  * _8 cup frozen peas_




_Notes: 48 hour notice required.  Price will vary based on market price of the beef. Harpies cannot taste spices so herbs, salt, and pepper can be omitted._

********************

Stiles cooked to the sound of rain pouring down on his dining shelter.  He filled every pie pan and baking dish he had access to with casseroles, quiches, and pies.  Anything he could prepare now, freeze, and then reheat on the day of Laura's Baby shower.  It was dismal work but he tried to keep a smile on his face.  A frown would be a poor greeting to the people that frequently interrupted his work.

The first of the Hales guests had arrived on Tuesday.  The wards gave Stiles a momentary warning.  They formed runes out of the corner of his eyes, but he wasn’t certain what they were trying to tell him.   Stiles looked up so see an older man with dark sunglasses and being led by a young barefoot woman. He had researched the leaders of the supernatural rights movement so Stiles was able to greet the newcomer by name.

"Welcome to Beacon Hills, Alpha Deucalion" Stiles said in a good approximation of cheerfulness. Deucalion was a controversial Alpha werewolf.  Although he was an undeniable champion for werewolf rights that had done a great deal to support American packs, he often made statements that alienated potential human allies and he had a mixed record with supporting other supernatural species. Of course, Stiles had personal reasons to be suspicious of the Alpha.  He had known about the threats to the restaurant and urged the Hales not to interfere.

"Emissary Stilinski," began the Alpha. “I am meeting Peter Hale here at noon, but I would appreciate some refreshment while I wait.”

Stiles had not been planning on serving new arrivals, but turning away a powerful Alpha seemed unwise. The coffee pot had enough left for two cups and he could assemble a plate of mixed fruit, cheese, and nuts from the ingredients on hand. When he placed the food on a table, Deucalion indicated for Stiles to join them.

“I wanted to verify that I was welcome in McCall territory,” Deucalion said.  Stiles knew that many of the old packs took territory seriously, but the treaty between the Hale and McCall packs made the question a formality.  Deucalion was an invited guest of the Hale pack.  The McCall pack could not object to his presence without causing offense.

“You are welcome in our territory,” Stiles said formally. “I know the Hales will be very glad you could make it.  I have heard stories from Cora and Derek about growing up with your pack.”

“It was an honor to take in Alpha Talia Hales surviving relatives.”  Deucalion looked directly at Stiles with his sightless eyes. “I am glad to see a Hale Alpha reclaim Beacon Hills and a True Alpha emerge.  I came early so I could spend time with my old pack members and become acquainted with yours.” Stiles felt like he was being tested.

“Alpha McCall is off shift at the hospital at three this afternoon.  I’m sure he would enjoy meeting you.”

“Excellent,” agreed Deucalion. “Alpha McCall and I need to speak about our goals for the packs.”

To the best of Stiles knowledge, Scotts goals for his pack was to live peacefully in Beacon Hills.  Stiles doubted Scott thought about other packs or werewolf politics at all.

“Perhaps I can answer your questions,” Stiles suggested. Deucalion tilted his head as if he was subjecting Stiles to intense scrutiny.  The effect was disconcerting.

“You have publicly declared an agenda of binding all the supernatural species together through food so we can work towards undefined goals.”  When stated that way it sounded kind of stupid.

“Basically.”

“If you could decide on a plan for what to do with all your well fed people, I would appreciate it,” Decalion stated.  “And please pass the message to your Alpha.” As he finished speaking, Peter joined them.  Stiles excused himself to continue working on his cooking while the werewolves sat at his table and plotted.

On Wednesday, they were joined by Laura, the Fey Queen, and a man who claimed to be the oldest vampire in North America.  Thursday morning, twenty people showed up for breakfast and Stiles had almost forty for lunch. The supernatural community was gathering in Beacon Hills and they all expected Stiles to feed them.  When he had spare minutes he tried to join the discussions about strategies and goals for the supernatural movement, but he didn’t have the time to be a major contributor.  

The debates occasionally got lively. The wards warned him whenever tempers were about to flair.  Then he would wade in with a plate of species appropriate snacks and drag Scott with him to try to settle the dispute.  To his surprise, most people accepted Scott and Stiles as a neutral mediators.  Being a True Alpha gave Scott instant credibility and Stiles was respected as both Scott’s Emissary and a community organizer.

Scott had a talent for seeing complex problems simply and coming up with common sense solutions.  Sometimes it seemed that the only thing the various supernatural species had in common was the people that hated them, but they were making some progress.  Stiles was learning more information that he could fully process and falling behind on his cooking.

Of course the Hale’s guests were not the only distractions.  Over the course of the week, several reporters showed up to ask questions. Apparently, a supernatural gathering on the eve of a trial was newsworthy. Peter was always happy to take a couple minutes to wax lyrical about how the supernaturals were overcoming obstacles and bonding more tightly as a community. His persona for reporters was charismatic, avuncular, and completely out of character.

Whenever the reporters turned to him for comment, Stiles would say he had faith in the justice system and was focused on rebuilding.  He took to having treats constantly within reach so he could offer them to reporters.  In theory, they couldn't ask questions with their mouths full.  This may have slightly backfired. Peter ordered him to keep bribing the press with pastries because he thought it increased positive coverage.  Stiles made a special fruit tart for Peter with salt instead of sugar.

Late Thursday afternoon, the wards pinged to announce the arrival of the newest set of mixed motives. Ill will came in far more forms than Stiles had previously realized.  The wards were sensitive and Stiles was still learning to interpret their information. He looked up to see Peter leading a petite woman with the lower body and wings of a bird towards him.

“Emissary Stilinski,” began Peter formally. “I would like to introduce you to Aello, Queen of the Harpies.”

Plastering a smile on his face, Stiles greeted the new arrival. “Welcome to my restaurant.  Can I offer you some food?”  Accepting food was very significant in many supernatural cultures, so Stiles was happy when the Harpy Queen accepted.

“The stew smells delicious.”

“Thank you,” said Stiles turning to grab and bowl and spoon. It was a wasted effort.  The Harpy Queen plucked the whole pot off the grill and began drinking large gulps from the ladle. It took her less than five minutes to finish the food he had been intending to serve the entire crowd for dinner.  

“Is there any more?” she enquired looking around the kitchen.

“Nothing else is ready.” Stiles admitted while trying to mask his irritation.

“Oh well, it was very good.  I appreciate a restaurant that understands proper portions.”  She handed Stiles a five dollar bill. “Keep the change.”  Aello sat down next to a Druid and Stiles looked down at the money in his hand in disbelief.

He walked over to Peter and tapped him on the shoulder. “You need to order pizza,” he declared.  “Lots and lots of pizza. I am officially out of food.”

“Can you have more food delivered for tomorrow?” asked Peter unconcerned.

“Tomorrow, I am running the usual Friday seafood special.  Everyone is welcome to come and order off the menu at menu prices,” Stiles said.  Some people had been tipping or paying him for their meals, but most seemed to think it was a free service.  As a rule, Stiles was not overly concerned about money, but the funds to buy ingredients needed to come from somewhere.  

“Very well,” Peter replied.  “I think we can wrap up for this afternoon.  I will spread the word that breakfast will not be provided tomorrow and I will order pizza for lunch.”

“Perfect,” agreed Stiles. He made quick work of cleaning the kitchen area before heading back to his dad’s house.  On the way, he called Isaac to tell him to triple the usual seafood and bread order. Isaac had been avoiding the pack and spending as much time as possible with Cam.  Stiles assumed that no news meant that Isaac and Jen were still arguing.

Stiles allowed himself thirty minutes to mess around on the internet before he started his evening task list.  His outdoor kitchen was amazing, but his mother’s angel food cake recipe required a food processor and a stand mixer.  He had just laid out all the ingredients when the doorbell rang.

“I heard you had a rough afternoon,” Derek greeted him holding up bags of take out.

“Oh my god, you are the absolute best,”  exclaimed Stiles.  He pulled his boyfriend into the house and started opening containers to determine if he needed silverware or chopsticks.  “I was about to eat my spatula.”

Derek set the table and let Stiles talk.

“Ugh, so many people and so much food,” complained Stiles. “I know the meetings are a good thing but do they all have to be at my restaurant?”

“I thought you wanted to make a safe place for the community to gather and eat,” Derek reminded him.

“Of course I do, but after a day like today I feel no shame in being a hypocrite. A hungry, harassed, hypocrite.  My brain has too much thinking.  Can you talk to me while I eat?” By the time he finished his rant, Stiles had dished up a heaping plate of vegan Thai food and started shoveling it into his mouth.

As ordered, Derek took over the conversation filling Stiles in on all the latest developments in alternative energy research.

“You should look into solar panels for the roof of the restaurant,” Derek concluded.  “The new technology is more resilient, less toxic, and surprisingly affordable.”  Stiles always enjoyed listening to Derek talk about his interests.  He came out of every conversation with new knowledge and a greater appreciation of how hot Derek looked when he spoke passionately.

“It sounds like a good idea, but lets finish construction before we start planning enhancements,” Stiles countered.  “The Funds4Me page met the stretch goal to allow us to do green construction, but I don’t know if there will be enough extra to buy photovoltaics.” Finishing his meal, Stiles started to automatically clear the dishes, but Derek waved him to stay seated and took over the job himself.

“Sorry for being crabby earlier,” Stiles apologised. With a full belly and clearer mind, he was feeling calmer and slightly guilty for his earlier outburst.

“No problem,” Derek responded. “If I was in those meetings, I would be going completely crazy and I wouldn’t have to be splitting my attention to cook.”

“I should be happy.  Great, big, important things are happening, but I’m overwhelmed and not doing enough to help,” Stiles continued.  

“Uncle Peter said that without you and Scott the whole thing would have devolved into one big argument.” Derek pulled up a chair next to Stiles and held his hands.  “My Uncle isn’t great with please or thank you, be we all know what you are doing and appreciate it.  Peter thinks he is the brains of this movement, but everyone knows you are the heart.”  Derek's face shone with sincerity

Stiles heaved a sigh and tried to wrestle himself into a more positive headspace. He had no time to mope if he was going to finish all the baking tonight.

“Thanks for the pep talk,” Stiles said. “I think you have earned the honor of helping me bake your sister’s cake, but I am going to have to blindfold you when I add the secret ingredient.”

“Kinky,” Derek said, but he didn’t seem put off by the idea.  That definitely merited further thought later.

Dragging his mind back to the task at hand, Stiles started measuring sugar into the food processor.  As the sugar spun into the super fine granules necessary for an airy, smooth angel food cake, he started separating the eggs.  This recipe wasn’t difficult, but it was persnickety.  Leave out a step and you ended up with a mess. When he had separated a dozen eggs and whisked in water and cream of tartar it was time to add the secret ingredient.

“Alright no looking,” he warned.  Stiles quickly grabbed the bottle of Cointreau off the liquor shelf and added a teaspoon to the mixture.  As he turned to replace the bottle, he saw Derek unrepentantly sneeking a peak.

“Cheater,” cried Stiles in mock outrage.

“I’m not going to steal your recipe,” Derek paused for effect.  “It calls for a dozen eggs”

Stiles took a pinch of flour from the bag and threw it at Derek.  Derek made his growly face, but it was way less effective when he was trying not to laugh.  Of course, retaliation came quickly in the form of an egg yoke in his hair.  The fight was on.  Five minutes later, Stiles, Derek, and the kitchen were a complete mess, but Stiles was happy for the first time in almost a week. This was exactly what he needed. A little silliness to counteract the stress and a reminder that there were good things to look forward to.  Like Derek laughingly conceding defeat and suggesting they shower before tackling the kitchen cleanup.  Stiles vowed to start food fights daily if it earned him a wet, naked Derek 'washing' his ass. Stiles returned the favor by using his tongue to verify that all the soap had been rinsed off Derek's chest.

When the water ran cold, Stiles was tempted to invite Derek into his bed to warm up, but instead he did the responsible thing and returned to his baking.  Sometimes being an adult sucked.  Still, cooking while Derek cleaned was more fun than cooking alone.  

By the time the Sheriff got home around midnight, Stiles and his volunteer sous chef had caught up on the baby shower food prep.

"My after work snack smells delicious," Stiles father greeted them cheerfully.

"Nope."

"Come on, I am selflessly volunteering to make sure none of the desserts are poisonous," John wheedled.

"Don't worry they are fine, I already checked them," Derek piped up unhelpfully.

"I want the ones with butter," countered the Sheriff. Stiles crossed his arms and stared at his father unmoved.

The Sheriff decided to change tactics. "Isn't it a little late for your boyfriend to be here?"

"You told me Derek is welcome anytime as long as you never see or hear anything above a PG rating," Stiles reminded him.

"And I can always change that," his father countered. Stiles knew that if his father actually disapproved of his relationship he would never casually joke about it.

"Fine, two oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for you to go upstairs and stop being an embarrassing parent," offered Stiles. They were made with whole wheat pastry flour anyway.

The Sheriff triumphantly claimed his treat and started walking towards the stairs. "If you promise to make us breakfast, I will turn on my sound machine"

"Deal," agreed Stiles.  He set up the slow cooker to make overnight almond milk Irish oatmeal and followed Derek upstairs.

The next morning Stiles got into the restaurant early feeling well rested despite limited sleep.  He was surprised to see Scott taping a piece of paper to one of the posts of the dining shelter.  On it was a bullet pointed list of three goals for the supernatural movement.

<Text from graphic>

  * Stop unprovoked violence against supernaturals

  * Stop discrimination in jobs, housing, schools, and courts through education and equal protection under the law

  * Stop interspecies conflict so we can work together to accomplish the first two goals




“There has been a lot of disagreement about what we should be doing and what is most important, but I haven't heard anyone argue about these three points,” Scott explained.  “So I thought it might be helpful to focus people on the things we agree on. "

"Scott, you are a genius, but you have terrible handwriting.” Scott smiled modestly. “I am going to text Peter to see if he can get something printed so everyone can read your list.”

Peter called less than five minutes after receiving the texts.  “This is a good start.  Can I assume that the McCall pack is united in approving these goals.”

“Our Alpha wrote them and the second approves,” Stiles affirmed.  Under werewolf tradition that was enough to bind the entire pack, but it seemed overly formal for the situation.

“Excellent,” acknowledged Peter. “Alpha Hale and I agree as well.  I will prep Alpha Deucalion and several of our other allies.  Can you check in with the local supernatural leaders so we can show a united front when we present these ideas?”

“Uhm, I guess” agreed Stiles.  Scott’s informal suggestions appeared to have been adopted as a mission statement. He emailed the list to his friends and invited anyone who wanted to talk to stop by the restaurant for breakfast.  Soon the dining structure was full of a wide variety of creatures eating a hastily prepared breakfast, but none of them seemed to have any actual objections to the goals list.

Peter showed up about an hour later with several posters that were surprisingly close to Scott's original list.

"I asked Derek to tighten the wording without changing the meaning," Peter explained with uncharacteristic forthrightness. "I also made sign up sheets so we could form committees to focus on each goal."

The rest of the day went surpassingly smoothly.  The only major challenge to Scott's list came from the Vampire Elder who wanted to separate the legal and educational aspects into separate committees.  As far as Stiles could tell this was mostly to be contrary, but it was a reasonable concession to gain support of a powerful faction.

Scott and Stiles were elected the leaders of the interspecies conflict resolution committee.  Stiles was uncertain who nominated them, but they won the vote almost unanimously.  Peter congratulated Scott on his brilliant campaign strategy of ad libbing a speech about how Stiles would love to cook for all the meetings.

The most contentious election was between Deucalion and the Vampire Elder for leadership of the legal team. Stiles did not publicly take a side, but he was pleased when the Vampire Elder narrowly won the vote.  Although he was not well known outside vampire circles, the Elder had 157 years experience as partner at a successful law firm that had a history of pro bono work for vampires in need.  Stiles privately shared with several friends that he thought the Elder was the more qualified candidate with less history of bias.

A Druid and Witch teamed up to lead the education committee.  The Druid taught third grade and the Witch taught in Community College.  They had interesting plans for creating content targeted towards a variety of ages.  Danny joined the their team as the webmaster and Derek volunteered to write.  The education team was the largest because they tried to recruit at least one member from every species present.  Stiles was excited about the prospect of accurate information becoming more widely available.

The Fey Queen announced that she had seen herself turning her Sight towards predicting potential violence towards supernaturals.  She then proceeded to list off the members of her committee.  Stiles father was appointed as the law enforcement liaison.  When the Fey Queen said Deucalion’s Pack could provide temporary refuge to targeted individuals as penance for past inactions Stiles had to stifle a laugh.  Deucalion looked furious as the onlookers whispered, but he did not challenge the announcement.

Laura was delighted that her baby shower was co-opted into a celebration of the newly organized supernatural community. She walked briskly into the party in a pantsuit and refused to talk about babies.  Anyone who tried to play traditional shower games ran the risk of being clawed.  No one tried.  They were too busy eating the excellent food and making plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my wonderful husband for writing Scott's list. This is the second time I have made him make me art because my handwriting is to feminine :-)


	6. Sparkling Ginger Lemonaide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles tries to have one normal day before the trial starts.

  * _1/2 cup (packed) chopped fresh mint leaves_

  * _1/3 cup chopped fresh ginger_

  * _1/3 cup honey_

  * _2 cups boiling water_

  * _1/3 cup fresh lemon juice_

  * _2 cups Club soda_




_Combine first four ingredients in a pan and steep for 30 minutes.  Strain into pitcher pressing solids to get out all the liquid.  Add club soda and lemon juice.  Serve over ice._

**********************

Stiles was completely unable to See the future. He knew that weather, stars, and tea leaves whispered fates to some people, but they never spoke to him.  Still it was impossible to live in his world without being a little superstitious.  Especially when the signs pointed to a good things ahead. The Sunday after Laura's baby shower dawned sunny and unseasonably warm. There was one day before the trial began and Stiles intended to take advantage of the opportunity to have a totally normal day.

Of course, for Stiles a normal day began with waking up early to serve brunch at the restaurant to a light crowd of regulars. Between idly arguing with his dad about doughnuts and flirting with Derek, he manned the vegan grill and helped Erica take orders.  It was relaxing to have the dining shelter full of familiar faces. There were a couple of visiting supernaturals eating a quick breakfast before leaving Beacon Hills, but after almost a week together they no longer qualified as strangers.  

Everything was going exactly as expected until Erica thrust a plate into his hands and went running towards to bathroom shed.  Stiles delivered the food to the waiting table before relieving Boyd at the omnivore grill so he could go check on his wife.  He came back grinning ear to ear.  It a slightly disconcerting expression on his usually inscrutable face.

“Erica needs the rest of the day off,” he informed Stiles as if gastrointestinal distress was a wonderful thing.

“Of course,” agreed Stiles.  Nobody wanted an ill waitress. “Do you need to take off to drive her home?”

“No, I think she is going to borrow one of Cora’s lawn chairs to lie down.”  Cora was taking advantage of the good weather to get a start on constructing of the main restaurant building.  Stiles didn’t know enough about construction to understand what she was doing but in involved enthusiastically moving a lot of dirt around.  Whenever she decided she had earned a break, Cora would wander over to the dining structure and steal her brother’s food.  It was a strange system that basically worked for everyone so Stiles saw no reason to alter it.  He delivered a full plate of easily digestible, stomach soothing options to Derek’s table in case Cora decided to share.

Derek had several notebooks and his laptop spread out on one of the larger tables.  He was working on outlining an inclusive book for middle schoolers about the multitude of supernatural cultures in the United States.  He was hoping to pitch it to one of the textbook publishers that contracted him to write chapters. Stiles was uncertain how much work he was actually accomplishing as his writing was frequently interrupted by friends or family.

By three o'clock, when the restaurant stopped serving food, the only people left were members of the Hale or McCall pack.  As Stiles cleaned the grill, he realized that the only member of the packs he hadn't seen during the last two day was Isaac.  He had stopped by briefly on Friday morning to drop off the bread and seafood, but no one had seen him since.  It was concerning that he missed the baby shower and Stiles couldn't remember a time when Isaac had missed Sunday brunch.

Feeling guilty for not noticing sooner, Stiles pulled out his cell phone.  To his relief, the other man answered on the second ring.

"Hey, Stiles. What's up?"

"We have missed you the last couple days and wanted to make sure everything was alright." In the background Stiles could hear kids playing.

"I'm in San Francisco with Cam this weekend," answered Isaac. He was obviously trying to sound upbeat, but it wasn't really working.  "There is a super fun playground near Jen's apartment."

"You’re staying with Jen?" Stiles questioned.

"No, I am staying with Cam," Isaac replied with barely concealed anger. "Jen just happens to be there. She doesn't think its safe for Cam to be in Beacon Hills during the trial, but she is letting me come down to be with him on Wednesdays, Saturdays, and Sundays." Stiles was surprised.  He had honestly expected Isaac and Jen to work it out.

"I’m glad you get to see him.”  Stiles could not even imagine what Isaac must be going through. “Are you okay?”

"I can’t really talk now,” Isaac answered in a rush.  “Cam’s new school is really great and he seems happy, but I don’t think he understands what is happening. He keeps asking when we are going home.”

“Are you and Jen still negotiating?” Stiles really hoped this was only a temporary situation.  

“Not really, Jackson strongly advised me to keep it out of the courts so I pretty much just have to take whatever Jen gives me.”  Stiles wished it wasn’t the case, but Jackson’s advice was probably correct.  The courts tended to heavily favor human parents especially with human children.

“Is there anything we can do?” Stiles had already talked to the Vampire Elder to make sure equitable custody agreements were on his list, but it would take time.

“Probably not. I am hoping that after the trial, Jen will be more open to discussion.  In the mean time I am going to be doing a lot of ... just a second.”  Stiles could hear the muffled sound of Isaac mediating a minor dispute between Cam and another child about who was the bigger dinosaur. Apparently one was taller and the other was longer.

“Sorry about that.  Back again.  I will be back in town tomorrow and we can catch up then.” Stiles added all the ingredients for Isaac’s favorite soup and sandwiches to the shopping list on his phone.  He couldn’t fix Isaac’s problems with Jen, but he could make sure he had the opportunity to vent over a comforting meal.

As Stiles hung up the phone, he saw his least favorite Hale walking purposefully towards him.

“We have a balance to settle,” he began ominously.  Stiles racked his brain, but couldn’t think of any cause for Peter to be upset with him.  Half a dozen reasons he was annoyed with Peter, but none for Peter to be mad at him.

“What balance?” Stiles asked.

Peter handed Stiles several sheets of paper stapled neatly in the corner.  They contained a itemized bill for the restaurants services over the previous week including all the prepared meals and four days of renting the facility.

“We have already paid half the total for the baby shower, so this check includes that balance as well as the money for additional services.”  Stiles eyes bulged at the total.  Perhaps it would be polite to protest, but frankly he had earned it.  There was just one item at the bottom of the second page that he didn’t recognise.

“Two vegan pizzas for pack movie night?” Stiles asked.

“Yes, Laura is having her movie and pizza baby celebration tonight.  We need something for Derek to eat,” Peter explained.  “Derek will pick you up at six thirty.”  

Stiles knew he should be irritated, but the move was so classically Peter.  Pay Stiles a huge amount of unasked for money, but put in a random demand.  Because Peter could never do anything completely nice.  

“Fine,” Stiles agreed.  He put the check carefully in his wallet and stuffed the paper in his pocket.  “But I am not making vegan pizza.  Non-dairy cheese never melts right and it is noticeable in pizza.  I am making stuffed focaccia.  Also why am I going to a Hale pack thing?”

“Derek likes you,” Peter said blandly.  “It is irritating to watch him pine when you aren’t around.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and gathered up his things to head to the grocery store.  Boyd and Erica could finish closing the restaurant.

He spent a relaxing afternoon making the focaccia and messing around on the internet. His dad’s refrigerator had some fruit that was about to go soft so he made a fruit salad as well.  Even a party should have one vaguely healthy option.

The doorbell rang when there was still ten minutes left on the oven timer.

“I had to escape,” Derek explained when Stiles answered the door.  “My apartment had been taken over by women doing gentle pack-bonding yoga.”

“I see Allison got to Laura,” Stiles said with a laugh.  “She was trying to convince my whole pack to try it during our last pack event.”

“If it was just yoga that would be fine,” Derek explained.  “But it is yoga with annoying music and Allison keeps talking about mystical nonsense and modifications for pregnant women.”

“Pack bonds are a real thing,” Stiles argued. “I thought the things I had read were exaggerated until Scott became an alpha.  But I could feel the bonds as they settled into place and strengthened.”

“I know that,” agreed Derek with slight annoyance.  “I’ve been in a pack my whole life, but I don’t believe that breathing in unison while contorting into a position that crunches my nuts is going to improve it.”

Stiles snorted. “Thanks for the warning.  I think I will accept my pack bond in its current form and retain my ability to father children.”

“You want kids?” Derek asked tentatively.  Stiles was a little thrown by his quip starting a serious discussion.

“Probably,” he answered.  “I’m not ready yet, but kids are kind of awesome and I think I would enjoy being a father.”  Stiles paused to give Derek a chance to voice his opinion, but the other man didn’t say anything.  Stiles hoped he hadn’t messed anything up as he continued talking.  “Unless my partner really doesn’t want them.  I mean, it isn’t something I want to do alone and it isn’t a relationship deal breaker, but yeah...I kind of want kids.”

“Okay,” acknowledged Derek with a nod.

“Okay?” asked Stiles uncertain how to interpret the one word response.

“I want a kid,” said Derek.  “Probably only one or two that are at least five years apart.”

“That works,” agreed Stiles easily.  “I never put much thought into the logistics because they would depend so much on if I’m with a man or a woman and my partner’s work situation.  I work a lot of hours at the restaurant.”

“My work is very flexible,” Derek said. “I would want to keep working at least part time because I think I would go nuts if I stopped writing.”

“I would never ask you to quit your job,” Stiles stated. He was uncertain if he was freaked out or reassured by the discussion.  It was nice to know that they seemed to agree on a very important topic, but he wasn’t ready to start making this type of plans. “We don’t need to figure out details now.”  The oven timer beeped saving him from further discussion.

The focaccia came out perfectly.  Derek refused to let the hot pan near his upholstery so Stiles had to ride to Laura’s with the food sitting on a beach towel on his lap. At least that gave Stiles something to tease Derek about during the drive.

They arrived at the Hale’s apartments to find the only people present were Laura’s husband Owen, Lydia, and Boyd. Owen was glaring a newly assembled crib.  Bits of packing material and several extra screws littered the floor.

“You are going to have to take off the front to get it into the nursery,” Lydia was explaining calmly.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before I finished putting it together?” Owen asked plaintively.  

“I don’t know about nurseries,” Lydia said with a sniff.  “I thought you wanted it in the living room for some reason.”

“I’ll help,” offered Boyd calmly.  The two men set to work on the crib while Lydia turned to greet Derek and Stiles.

“Hello, everyone is next door doing yoga,” she informed them.

“You didn’t want to strengthen pack bonds?” Stiles asked.  Lydia was peripherally part of Scott’s pack.  She could be counted on whenever there was major trouble or a celebration, but her life mostly revolved around becoming the youngest woman to receive tenure at Stanford.

“Not in this outfit,” she answered looking down at her blouse and short pencil skirt. Stiles could acknowledge her point. “I hear you had a productive week.”

Stiles filled her in on some of the things she had missed while Derek went to help Boyd and Owen.  A couple minutes later, Peter arrived with a dozen pizzas. The smell of food attracted the werewolves in the next apartment.  

Stiles was uncertain how Laura’s simple family movie night had turned into a joint McCall and Hale pack event, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.  Perhaps Laura was doomed to never get the party she actually wanted. Or maybe this was the party she wanted.  

Everyone lounged comfortably on the Hale’s oversized couches and against cushions on the floor and watched terrible 80s movies.  Stiles was contentedly cuddled between Derek and Scott.  He could feel himself surrounded by pack.  Maybe Allison’s yoga was actually working because he felt the bonds more distinctly than usual.  In fact, it was as if the pack bond had multiplied and added extra dimensions. Stiles shook his head and wedged himself more comfortable against Derek's chest. The trial started tomorrow.  No need to borrow trouble tonight.


	7. Fae Salad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Court and conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this universe, the Hale house fire happened when Derek was in elementary school. Consequently, this Derek doesn’t have the same issues around sex as canon Derek. Given canon Derek’s tendency to fall into bed frequently, I have decided that this Derek is experienced and very sex positive.

**_Ingredients:_ **

  * _Fresh field greens_

  * _Roasted chestnuts_

  * _Seasonal roasted vegetables_

  * _Homemade vinaigrette_




**_Instructions:_ **

_For fae: Food must be prepared without touching metal using the vegan prep space.  Use ceramic knives, plastic cutting boards, and glass bowls._

_For vegans: Use the vegan prep space and vegan (green) cutting boards, knives, and utensils. All vegans and vegetarians can be served food prepared with the fae protocol._

_For omnivores (human or supernatural): cheese (free) and protein (up-charge) can be added upon request.  Suggest fish if any is left over from Friday._

**_Notes:_ **

_Do morning prep of salad ingredients following fae protocol so they can be used in all dishes._

******************************************

Sitting in the courtroom for opening arguments was both surreal and kind of boring.  Stiles had seen so many fake trials in movies and on television that it was hard to believe he was part of a real one.  The judge was really sitting at a bench and the jury was cordoned off by a rail. All the adult members of the Hale and McCall packs sat in the back of the courtroom listening to the prosecutor pompously proclaim about how the arson of Stiles restaurant was uniquely heinous.  The internet on Stiles phone informed him that the country was watching in rapt attention.  Stiles wished he was elsewhere cooking.

Peter had convinced everyone who had been in the fire to attend at least the first day because he claimed it would give the jury a human face to the victims. Stiles thought Peter’s target was more likely to be the television audience.  However, Peter’s PR gambits had paid off in the past so Stiles was willing to humor him for one day at least.

The prosecutor had given them all a rough schedule of the proceedings.  Laura would be the first witness both because pregnant women were naturally sympathetic and because her baby was due in mid December.  After which, the prosecutor would work through the Hale pack and then the McCall pack, before calling Stiles as the last witness.  

Mr. Knowley had confessed to starting the fire by posting a manifesto on a ‘human rights’ message board while the fire burned.  So he was pleading guilty to arson, but he claimed that instead of a hate crime it was a reasonable response to his daughter’s upcoming wedding.  He was also claiming that he had timed the fire for an afternoon when the building would be unoccupied so that no one would be injured.  It was obviously complete nonsense, but it was impossible to say what a jury might choose to believe.   Jackson said the statutes were very clear that even accidental endangerment during the course of an arson should be a slam dunk conviction for attempted murder.  

With the arson confession, it was slightly strange that the case had made it to trial.  Jackson had expected a plea deal for the contested charges, but Mr. Knowley was determined to get his day in court.  Peter ranted that Mr. Knowley was trying to use the very public trial as a way to spread his views on supernaturals.  Of course, Peter was doing the exact same thing, but somehow that was completely different.  Possibly because it was working.  Stiles ignored the media as much as possible but even he knew that supernatural rights was a frequent topic of debate.

Stiles was relieved when the judge called a recess for lunch.  Stiles hurried back to his father’s house to check the soups he had started in two large slow cookers early in the morning.  Technically, he had only invited Isaac and Derek, but he was completely unsurprised when the entirety of both packs showed up for lunch. Stiles put an array of sandwich fixings on the counter and stood back as the horde descended. The only person holding back was Erica.

“Still feeling a little queasy,” Stiles asked sympathetically.

“Yeah, I managed to keep down breakfast this morning, but I think I need to stick to really boring food for lunch.”

Stiles fished a packet of plain crackers out of the cupboard and handed them to Erica. “I can make some ginger tea as well,” he offered.  “It really helped me when I had the stomach flu three years ago.”

“Are we pretending you haven’t guessed why I am nauseous?” Erica asked.

With everything else going on, Stiles hadn’t questioned Erica’s illness.  However, now that he thought about it there was a potentially wonderful explanation. “I make it a rule to never ask women if they are pregnant.  If they are, then it is their choice to make it public and if they are not, then you are basically accusing them of being fat.”

Erica laughed. “That makes sense.  I am weirdly nervous about the news becoming public. When Boyd and I first got together in high school, I was totally paranoid about getting knocked up.  I used to have nightmares that I got pregnant and everyone called me an irresponsible slut.”

“I think you’ve missed the window for that one,” Stiles reassured her.  “You are a married woman in her mid twenties. If anyone criticizes your choice to have a kid you can just look at them funny.”

Erica laughed and then practiced a judgmental stare.  “I’m really hoping the morning sickness is only a first trimester thing. I was miserable last fishy friday and it has gotten worse since.”

“I suspect your employer will be understanding,” Stiles teased. “When we have some spare time we should sit down to discuss parental leave for you and Boyd.”

“By law you don’t have to give us anything,” Erica pointed out.

“True, but I am the most amazingly awesome boss ever.” As Stiles finished speaking Boyd joined them with a small bowl of vegetable soup for his wife.

“Congratulations,” Stiles said to Boyd. “Erica told me the good news.”

Boyd looked proud. “That is the reaction I wanted,” he said pointedly.

“His mom asked if it was an accident,” Erica explained.  “She seemed totally shocked we were ready to have kids.”  She took a cautious spoonful of soup, but it seemed to go down okay.

“Weird,” Stiles said. “I’m not really surprised.  Based on a couple of things Erica let slip, I suspected you guys were trying.”

“Enthusiastically," agreed Erica in a more normal tone of voice.  Boyd looked slightly embarrassed, but didn’t contradict his wife.

"Umm."

"Trying to have a baby is basically a lot of well timed sex," Erica continued.  “It was fun.” While Stiles was vaguely glad his friends were enjoying that aspect of their life he had no need for details.

“I think I am done with this conversation,” he said.  “I need to talk to Isaac.” But Isaac was deep in a conversation with Jackson that Stiles was reluctant to interrupt so he went to go steal half of Cora’s sandwich.

Although it was very tempting to invent a reason he could not attend the afternoon session, Stiles returned to court.  Instead of paying attention, he spent the time daydreaming about the future.  When court was adjourned for the day, the pack dispersed.  Peter and Jackson wandered off to compare notes on the proceedings. Cora, Boyd, and Erica decided to use the remaining light to work on constructing the restaurant building. Stiles followed Derek back to his apartment.  

“I saw you and Erica talking at lunch today,” Derek began as he pulled vegetables out of the refrigerator.

“Yep, we had a good chat,” Stiles answered unhelpfully.  Derek rolled his eyes and handed Stiles a peeler and a bunch of carrots.

“Cora mentioned that Erica was very interested in prenatal yoga yesterday,” hinted Derek.  Stiles wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be keeping Erica’s news a secret.  Wasn’t there a partner exemption to secret keeping or did it only apply when you were married.

“Have you ever thought about how announcing that you are trying to get pregnant is basically telling all your friends that you are having lots of sex?” Stiles was proud of himself for being slightly misleading without lying. Derek raised an eyebrow but took the conversational bait.

“Imagine it when it is your sister.  It took Laura eight months to get pregnant and she kept discussing it with Cora.  I started wearing headphones while I worked to avoid inadvertent eavesdropping.”

Stiles shuddered. He may not have a biological sibling, but Scott came close. Supporting him through the angst-fest that was the least surprising proposal ever was bad enough.  When Scott and Allison decided to have kids he might have to plan a long vacation or move. “Bad mental images,” he cried.  “You have to help me replace them so strip.”

Derek laughed and gamely pulled his shirt over his head, but made no move to remove his pants. “After dinner, I will do whatever you want, but cooking pantless is inadvisable.”

“Anything?” Stiles asked archly happy for the change of topic. He arranged the peeled carrots on a roasting pan with the brussel sprouts that Derek had been cleaning and drizzled everything with olive oil.

“Pretty much.  Some things I would want to talk about first.”

“How is it so easy for you to say that kind of thing?” Stiles asked.  He was doing better, but intimate topics still usually had him babbling out a string of only partially comprehensible sentences.

“I've had lots of kinds of sex,” Derek confided.  “Some of it was meaningful and some was because I was in college and horny.  A couple of times fall into the category of ‘never doing that again’, but I don't regret any of it.  I’ve learned that a certain level of communication tends to make sex better.”

“Okay I get that, but I have trouble saying what I want because it is embarrassing and hard to know what I will like in real life.”

“Can I help?,” Derek offered.  He pulled a pan off the pot rack and measured out some water for making quinoa.

“I don't want to lead tonight.  I have done research and watched a ridiculous amount of porn, but I have trouble picturing myself doing some of those things,” Stiles confessed as he put the pan of vegetables into the oven to roast.  Stiles was grateful that he could have this conversation while cooking.  The familiar tasks were comforting and meant he wasn’t expected to look at his partner while he spoke.

“Like what?” Derek asked non-judgmentally.

“Putting dicks up butts.  It looks neither fun nor sanitary,”  Stiles had been so relieved when the survey hit the papers saying that many gay men didn’t have anal sex.  He wasn’t certain why it squicked him, but it definitely did.  

“So we don’t do that,” Derek said.  He continued preparing dinner as if Stiles confession was no big deal.  Maybe to Derek it wasn’t.

“That easy?” Stiles asked.

“Yep, tons of other things we can do.” Derek started setting the table. “I’ve been letting you set the pace because I wanted to be respectful of the fact that sex means different things to you than it does for me.  But I have some ideas that I think we will both enjoy.”

Stiles was relieved.  He kept worrying about things and building up stressful conversations in his mind only to have them simply resolved. Derek was awesome and Stiles was totally falling in love with him.  And even that was not as scary as he expected it to be.  Maybe he didn’t have to plan.  He could yet let it slip out when he felt it or in response to Derek saying it first.  “I want you to pick one and ambush me with it after dinner.”

Derek grinned. “I’m looking forward to it.”

**************

Stiles sex life quickly became even more awesome which was a good buffer because the trial was going poorly.  Stiles didn’t attend the rest of the trial, but he heard all about it from Peter and his friends.  After each one finished testifying they would come into the restaurant in a funk and Stiles would serve their favorite food and give them a chance to vent.

“Mr. Knowley’s lawyer acted as if every word I said was completely unbelievable,” Derek complained after giving his testimony at the end of the first week. “Then he insinuated that I was so new in town I couldn’t possibly know what had happened and my family history made me prone to worst case interpretations.  Apparently I imagined being trapped in the building because my family was killed in an arson or didn’t try to escape as a result of childhood trauma”

“Didn’t the prosecutor object?” Stiles father had been pleased when the prosecutor for the case was announced.  The Sheriff had worked with her several times before and found her to be a competent professional.

“”Yes, she had to object to every other word.  The judge sustained all her objections, but didn’t do anything to stop Mr. Knowley’s lawyer for saying further horrible things.  It was like the Judge was following the absolute letter of the law, but not taking any additional action to curb the slanderous insinuations.  Maybe that is just how trials work.”

Stiles was not an expert, but he had read several articles by people who were that said the judge appeared to be biased.  As the trial went on the lawyer’s insinuations got more pointed and the judge started getting visibly irritated with the prosecutors frequent objections.  

Peter attended court every day and worked hard to make sure the story was getting told. Ever the pragmatist, he tried to channel the public outrage over the unfairness into his prefered channels, but it was only partially successful.  He took out his frustrations by being even more Peter than usual. Stiles realized that being manipulative was Peter’s way of dealing with stress, but he had little patience for the man’s meddling. Two weeks into the trial he banned Peter from his restaurant.  Three weeks into the trial, he threatened to spread the ban to anyone who took him takeout.

Isaac got progressively quieter as the month went on.  After he testified in the beginning of the second week, Stiles only saw Isaac twice a week for restaurant related business and the rest of the pack didn’t see him at all.  Stiles suspected he may have moved to San Francisco to be closer to Cam, but he didn’t want it confirmed and made real.

Cora, Boyd, and Erica channeled their energy into construction of the new restaurant building.  They made surprising progress and by the time Stiles was called to testify at the beginning of the fourth week the foundation had been poured and the framing was complete.  Although Erica had not formally announced her pregnancy, Stiles suspected that everyone knew.  When Erica continued to have trouble with nausea, Allison announced that she wanted to work as a waitress to make some extra holiday cash.  

Testifying was even more terrible than Stiles expected.  Mr. Knowley’s lawyer tried to make it sound as if Stiles had intentionally let exonerating evidence burn in the fire.  Every statement Stiles made was challenged.  How did he know Mr. Knowley was the one who poisoned him? Did he have any evidence to connect his client with the graffiti? Did he have any evidence the graffiti had magical properties or even existed in the first place? His father, in the viewing gallery, vacillated between giving his son encouraging looks and glaring at the judge with increasing outrage.  Stiles considered it a major victory that he managed to make it through without screaming or crying.

Both packs came together to watch the closing arguments and then all they could do was wait as the jury deliberated.


	8. The verdict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has opinions on the trial verdict.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this chapter is a couple days late. My husband and older daughter are ill and my toddler is teething molars. Not a fun week, but everyone is on the mend in time for the weekend. 
> 
> This chapter is not betaed so I could get it out sooner.

_ Email sent to Stiles mailing list _

_Dear Friends,_

_Today our community is reeling from a grave miscarriage of justice.  I am saddened by this evidence of tolerance for violence against supernaturals, but determined to carry on the fight.  Please join me this afternoon at 3 as we peacefully march from the restaurant to the Beacon Hills courthouse to demand a retrial.  We believe the judge was biased and unfairly influenced the jury. Families welcome._

_Afterwards, please return to the restaurant for a special community dinner._

_Thanks,_

_Stiles Stilinski_

_Menu_

  * _Things to eat on buns (hamburgers, vegan burgers, kosher salmon burgers, hotdogs, and vegan dogs)_

  * _Thing we fry (curly fries, sweet potato fries, fish and chips, and anything else I find that seems like it should be fried)_

  * _Assorted salads (seriously, I have gone way overboard on the volume and number of salads)_

  * _Potluck items provided by the community (Please label dishes as omnivore, vegetarian, vegan, kosher, halal, etc.)_




_Price : Free, but we will be accepting donations for the Supernatural Legal Defense Fund._

****************************************

The night before jury was due to announce their verdict, Stiles drafted two emails to his mailing list.  The emails were very similar.  Both invited everyone to a community dinner to raise funds for the newly formed Supernatural Legal Defense fund.  The major difference was that one email was for a celebration and the other was for a protest.  In the seconds after the verdict was read, Stiles realized he should have drafted a third option.

Mr. Knowley was convicted of aggravated arson and four counts of reckless endangerment. Apparently, the prosecutor had been unable to prove that anyone except Stiles and his employees were even in the building.  Mr. Knowley was judged innocent of attempted murder and all hate crimes.  The judge sentenced him to 12 years in prison, but gave him credit for time served before the trial and added the possibility of parole after three years.  Stiles didn’t need Jackson’s explanation to know it was the lightest possible sentence that conformed to sentencing guidelines.  

“Reckless endangerment,” Jackson ranted as they exited the courtroom. “Apparently deliberately trapping a supernatural in a burning building is the equivalent of improperly strapping a child into a car seat.”  The charges related to poisoning Stiles and the magical graffiti had been dropped.  Considering that Mr. Knowley had already confessed to the arson, it seemed absurd that so few of the other charges had stuck.  Initially, the prosecutor had told Stiles that she expected Mr. Knowely to be sentenced to life in prison.

Stiles walked to his restaurant in a daze.  He pulled out his laptop and stared at the emails trying to figure out which one to send.  It could have been worse.  Jackson believed they had a good chance of appealing the verdict because the judge was obviously biased and the jury instructions had been incorrect. In addition, Peter, Jackson, and the Vampire elder were looking into options for civil suits, but that would mean more time in court giving testimony. Stiles just wanted to move on. He would do everything they recommended because he understood the importance to the movement.  Besides, if he refused, Peter would probably just forge his signature on the paperwork.

Before Stiles made a decision, people started gathering at the restaurant.  Stiles closed his laptop and started serving food he had prepared the day before.  He set bowl after bowl of soup in front of sympathetic faces and he still hadn’t sent the email.  Derek and Jackson collaborated to write an article about the implications of the verdict that could be understood by people without a legal degree.  Scott made a speech to the assembled patrons and Cora drew brightly colored posters.  Maybe Stiles didn’t have to send anything because his community was gathering anyway.

“Stiles sit down.”  His father gently grabbed him by the shoulders and steered him to a seat.

“I need to send an email,” Stiles told him distractedly.  “Everyone is invited to dinner.”

“Peter already took care of it,” the Sheriff assured him.  “We are going to march from the restaurant to the courthouse and then come back here for a fundraiser diner.”  

Usually Stiles would be annoyed, but for once, he was grateful that Peter took the decision from him.  It was hard to think.  His head kept swirling with plans and denial.  He stood up again. “I need to start cooking.”  

His father pushed him back down. “Boyd says you finished all the prep yesterday.  He has everything in hand.  All you need to do right now is sit and eat lunch.”  As the Sheriff finished speaking, Allison came over with a bowl of creamy chicken soup and a biscuit.  “If you finish every mouthful, I will let Derek choose my diner.  Otherwise, I am going to have a bacon cheeseburger and fries.”

Stiles ate lunch with his father sitting sympathetically by his side.  It felt ridiculous that he had handled the actual fire better than he was handling the verdict.  With a full stomach, he realized it was because he felt helpless.  When his restaurant burned, he had reopened as soon as possible in defiance and felt vindicated when his community gathered in support.  Now, all he could do was continue on.  The lawyers would continue the fight, but it was mostly out of his hands.  He was exhausted and wished for once something would be easy and work out the way he expected.

Enough of self pity.  Stiles determinedly stood up and cleared his dishes.  His business was growing, he had a great relationship, and he was doing good work with the supernatural community.  As Peter would certainly remind him, the verdict would have no effect on his daily life, but it would give the movement an additional rallying cry.  A fully guilty verdict with a harsh sentence would have been best, but blatantly unfair was probably better than middle ground.

As always, serving his customers helped Stiles clear his mind and by the time the protest march started he was ready to lead.  Standing between Scott and Derek, Stiles waved one of Cora’s signs and chanted.  Behind him, a large crowd peacefully walked to the courthouse.  Stiles saw several news crews and but didn’t stop to talk to any of them.  When they arrived, Peter handed him a set of notecards with ‘hints’ for a short but rousing speech.  Stiles was both creeped out and incredibly grateful that Peter had gotten so good at ghost writing as him.  Unsurprisingly, the last card urged the entire crowd to return with him to the restaurant to share a meal.

Laura had felt that she was too pregnant to walk, but she met them at the courthouse with her new minivan to shuttle Stiles and his staff back to the restaurant. The dining shelter couldn’t even begin to accommodate the entire crowd so the parking lot and grass around the restaurant was quickly taken over by people sitting on picnic blankets and lawn chairs.  The outdoor kitchen churned out food as fast as possible, but it was fortunate that most people had brought potluck dishes to share.  Both packs were kept busy serving food and organizing donations.

Just before six, Stiles cooking rhythm was interrupted by a frantic Isaac. “I need to leave now,” he exclaimed without explanation and then turned and began to hurry towards his car.

Stiles dropped his flipper and ran after him. “What happened?” Stiles asked as he caught up to Isaac unlocking his car door.

“There is a riot in San Francisco.  Jen and Cam are trapped.” Isaac fumbled his keys as his hands shook.  There was no way he should be driving.

“Stop,” Stiles commanded. Isaac froze and Stiles took half a second to form a plan.

“I have to go,” Isaac said interrupting Stiles thoughts.

“Absolutely, but you aren’t safe to drive.  I’m going to get Derek.  He has the fastest car.”  Stiles briefly wondered if he should get his father instead, but the Sheriff was on duty later tonight and another werewolf would be more useful in a riot.

“Okay, but be quick,” Isaac agreed.

The sight of Stiles running through the crowd searching for Derek alarmed some of his guests, but Stiles didn’t care.  He found Derek passing out vegi burgers to the Wiccan sisterhood.  Derek volunteered to drive Isaac before Stiles even finished explaining the situation. He promised to text as soon as there was any news.

When Stiles turned back towards his grill, he was startled to find Peter uncomfortably close behind him scrolling through twitter updates on his phone.  

“You heard?” Stiles asked to confirm his assumption that Peter was being as nosy as usual.

“Of course,” answered Peter. “It appears that the main protest in San Francisco has turned into a riot.  There are several reports of smashed windows and burning cars.  Law enforcement is calling for supernatural rioters to disperse.  However, it appears that most of the affected businesses are known to be sympathetic to supernaturals.  Some supernatural protesters are claiming that humans are starting the violence to discredit them.” Peter turned his phone towards Stiles to show him a picture of a young man throwing a burning bottle through a car window.  It was impossible to tell if he was human, werewolf, or one of the many other species that could pass as human.

“Fortunately, I am not finding many reports of serious injuries, but I am certain the situation would be frightening to a person like Cam’s mother,” Peter said in a condescending tone. “I will go to observe, document, and assist Isaac if necessary. Before I leave, I will smooth over your hasty movements and discreetly spread word to the pack.”

“Thank you,” Stiles replied.  Peter waved his hand dismissively and turned away.

Stiles closed his eyes and breathed deeply to focus on the pack bond.  Close by, he could feel the comforting presence of most of his path.  Further away, Stiles could feel Isaac’s maelstrom of emotions moving towards San Francisco and Derek’s worried determination.  Even when he stretched his mind as far as possible, Stiles couldn’t sense Cam.  At that distance, the failure meant nothing, but he had hoped to be able to give his pack some good news.

As the community dinner continued, the members of the Hale and McCall packs all found their own ways of dealing with their worries for Cam. Jackson and Lydia dug up a map and started annotating it will a complicated set of symbols indicating type of protest events, level of violence, and number of arrests. Scott and the Sheriff wandered the crowd talking to anyone who looked upset to make sure this event stayed peaceful. Stiles and Boyd cooked mountains of food which Alison, Erica, and Cora delivered to waiting guests.  When they were unable to keep up Laura, volunteered to help refill water.  She circled the dining structure filling glasses and chatting with guests.  Occasionally, she would pause and grip one of the dining structure posts for a minute.  Stiles hadn’t realized Laura and Cam were so close.  Watching her breath through one of her spells, he could almost feel an echo of her pain.

When Derek sent a mass text with an all clear, the simultaneous relief from all the members of his pack made Stiles dizzy.  Derek’s message was short on details but no one was injured and everyone, except Peter, was heading back. Stiles was hopeful that Jen’s willingness to bring Cam to Beacon Hills was a positive sign for Isaac’s troubles.  He wondered if he was a terrible person for thinking the verdict might be worth it if it meant Isaac got his son back.

Stiles musings were interrupted by Laura.  She was walking slowly towards him holding her husband’s arm. “I was waiting for news on Cam, but I think it is time for me to go,” she said apologetically.

“No worries,” Stiles assured her.  She had been on her feet for well over an hour. “Thank you for all your help.”  Most of the guests seemed to take Laura’s leaving as a signal.  The crowd thinned rapidly and by the time Derek arrived back at the restaurant only the McCall pack remained.  Stiles and his employees  had just finished closing the restaurant for the night while the rest of the pack clustered around Lydia’s map.  

Derek looked tired, but calm.  He walked up to Stiles without a word and wrapped him in a warm hug.  They stood there for several moments drawing comfort from each other.  Stiles felt like he was enveloped in Derek’s love.  

“You guys are sickening,” Erica interrupted rudely. “Enough cuddles, give us the news.”

Derek shifted to face the pack, but he didn’t let Stiles go. “The shop below Jen’s apartment was looted and vandalized.  Jen saw rioters set a car on fire and was concerned that they would try to burn the shop.  As Jen and Cam were about to exit the building, Jen saw a pair of teenagers try to drag the owner out of the shop.  Fortunately, they were ineffective against an adult werewolf.”

“That’s terrible,” Scott exclaimed.  “She must have been scared out of her wits.”

“She was terrified, but rational.  After the teenagers ran off she invited the shop owner into her apartment,”  Derek continued.  “When Isaac and I got there, they were sitting in the walk in closet with all the light off pretending no one was home.”  Stiles didn’t want to picture Cam, Jen, and the owner huddling in the dark.  At least the fire was so quick, he only had a couple minutes to be scared.

“I’m surprised she let him in,” Lydia said what everyone was thinking. Stiles was reluctant to speak unkindly of anyone who had just been through such an ordeal so he kept quiet.  

“He is an omega who applied for the bite to cure advanced cancer,” Derek supplied with a shrug.  “I talked to him briefly while Jen was packing some necessities.  Isaac invited him to the restaurant to thank him for helping his son.”  If Stiles was understanding the situation correctly, the omega was more of a fellow victim than a savior. But whatever, he would be happy to give any survivor of supernatural violence a free meal.

“How is Cam holding up?” Alison asked hesitantly.

“Jen doesn’t think he saw anything.  When Isaac and I got there, he mostly seemed tired and bored.  He fell asleep in the back of the car on the way back.”  Derek tried to cover a yawn as he finished speaking.  

Stiles figured everything else that needed to be said could wait until morning. “You guys are welcome to stay here as long as you want but I am putting Derek to bed.”

“I bet you will,” catcalled Erica.

Stiles rolled his eyes, but didn’t contradict her.  Derek was more than willing to be manhandled to Stiles car.  

As they got ready for bed, Stiles realized that everything Derek needed was there.  Derek had a toothbrush sitting next to Stiles in the holder and a spare set of clothes in Stiles drawers.  

When they settled into bed in Stiles childhood room, Derek fell immediately asleep.  Stiles stayed awake for several minutes mentally checking in on his pack. Everyone should be safe in Beacon Hills where they belonged.  Just to make sure he cast his mind along the pack bonds.  Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson were feeling determined at the restaurant. Erica and Boyd were content at their house. Isaac, Cam, Derek and Cora were asleep.

It didn’t occur to him until the next morning that he shouldn’t have been able to sense Derek and Cora.


	9. Interlude: Cycles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura had always been grateful for the cycles in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All,
> 
> Sorry this chapter was delayed. My family has been dealing with a string of illnesses and moving. I would not recommend putting an offer on a house when the whole family is sick, but everything worked out. I will have a real sized kitchen! I am beyond excited.
> 
> This chapter contains a description of natural childbirth. Labor is a bit of a head trip. When everything progresses properly, the mom ends up stoned out of her mind on endorphins.
> 
> Thank you for your patience.  
> Anika

Laura had always been grateful for the cycles in her life.  The rhythm of the moon, the seasons, and her monthly bleeding provided structure.  There were days for creativity, instinct, and anger.  Laura found it was better to take advantage of these patterns than to fight them.  She looked forward to the auspicious days and learned to cope with the bad ones.  

When the judge announced the jury would deliver their verdict on the day of the new moon, Laura was grateful.  Some people speculated that the judge manipulated the schedule so that the news would hit when werewolves had the least access to their powers.  This just revealed their ignorance. Laura had always found the added control more than compensated for reduced raw power.  As it turned out, on the day of the verdict control was the last thing Laura needed.

Laura woke with a back ache that got worse as the day progressed.  By lunch she was feeling periodic painful twinges, but she didn’t get her first real contraction until almost dinner time. When it struck, she tried to relax and remember her body was doing exactly what it was supposed to be doing.  She couldn’t stop the pain any more than she could stop people from rioting or hating.  There was no way she could help Isaac or Cam, but she could help Stiles with the restaurant and help her baby descend.  

Laura walked a pattern around the tables filling glasses with water. She was careful to take the exact same number of steps between each table. When the pains hit, she breathed deeply and counted her breaths.  The midwife had said she should try to disengage her analytical mind, but the numbers were comforting.  One, two three in.  Three, two, one out.  A cycle of her breaths within the cycle of her contractions.  Walking in circles around the restaurant was exactly what she was supposed to be doing. She changed directions after particularly bad contractions.  The inefficiency was worth it.

Several of the Wiccan sisters whispered blessings as she passed them and the Fae Queen stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.  She looked into Laura’s eyes and after a second whispered that she was doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing.  Her body knew the cycles.  

The posts of the dining structure were arranged in a pleasingly geometric pattern.  Laura could lean against them when she needed the support.  She changed direction and almost ran into her husband who had decided to follow her with his phone out.  There was a clock displayed on the screen and a column of numbers.

“They are getting closer together,” he informed her.  Of course they were, that is exactly what they were supposed to be doing.  Laura didn’t answer because that would mess up the pattern of her breathing.  

The pitcher in her hand never emptied because Cora traded it for a new one whenever it started to run low.  The old witch who had delivered Laura and all of her siblings walked next to her for a time. Then, she had a whispered conversation with Laura’s husband while Laura held onto a post and rocked her hips.  An annoying bing from her phone interrupted her counting. She hummed loudly to cover the noise.

“Cam and Jen are safe,” her husband told her. Laura finished counting her breath before responding.

“I have to tell Stiles we are leaving,” she said.  Because they had to go, the restaurant was full of pack, but there were too many other people. “We need to go home now.”  Her husband supported her over to Stiles and then helped her out to the car.  He gave the witch the keys from Laura’s purse so she could go ahead and set up for the birth.

Sitting in the car was wrong.  She was bent wrong and she couldn’t move and there was nothing to count.  Her breaths stuttered from the pain and she felt horribly nauseous.  As the pain receded, Laura tried to make a plan for the next contraction.  

“We should walk,” Laura demanded. Her husband looked uncertain but didn’t argue.  He pulled over to the side of the road and walked around the car to open Laura’s door. She vomited into the grass next to the sidewalk and then started walking determinedly towards home.  Laura counted her steps.  She was doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing.  Even when she vomited again after the next contraction and drenched her pants as her water broke.  It was correct.

The witch had arrived before them and set up a nest of blankets over a sturdy blue tarp.  Laura circled it twice and then grabbed her husbands arms as a contraction started to grow. She counted up to thirty and had made it back down to fifteen when the pain started growing again.  Laura hummed loudly to show her displeasure.  This broke the pattern and was unfair.  

“Are you feeling the urge to push?” the witch asked kindly when Laura stopped humming.  

Laura shook her head.  Words were too much effort.  The only things Laura had to worry about were in her head and in her body. Because she was doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing.  When it seemed like she couldn’t bare any more, her ability to cope got better and the pain remained.  Cycling in and out as she counted her breaths.  Time only existed as a cycle.  Laura didn’t know how long she labored just that the room had grown dark and that was good.  The witch lit candles but Laura hissed at them because the scent was wrong.  The muted light from the hallway was better.

The pain was blinding and pushing made it worse and better. Straining to bring her child into the world was the right thing to do.  Every part of her agreed as she tensed her muscles and counted.  Fifteen cycles of pushing and her daughter was born. Her loud cries broke the cycle and time came back as the witch laid Laura’s daughter on her chest.  

Laura kissed her daughters little hands and marveled at the fact that she was correct in every way.  Why did adults have such little heads anyway?  Her baby was perfect and thus everyone else was slightly funny looking.  

“You should call the pack” Laura told her husband without taking her eyes off her daughter. “Peter, Cora, Derek, and Stiles should be here to meet our newest member.”

“Stiles?” Her husband asked. Laura shifted the slightest amount of attention from the precious bundle rooting around her chest to be annoyed.  Establishing pack bonds early was important for young werewolves.  It helped them grow up connected to their instincts and with better control.  It was customary to call the pack together as soon as the baby was safely delivered.  

“He is probably with Derek,” Laura answered.  “Call Derek and you should get both.” She started trying to help her daughter latch.  The breastfeeding books had said that babies would latch instinctively at this point in their lives, but her daughter was having a bit of trouble. Laura pinched her nipple the way she remembered from a diagram and shifted her daughter’s body so she could better support her head.  It only partially worked.

As soon as the witch finished massaging her belly and delivering the placenta, Laura would ask her to help establish breastfeeding.  The scent of a new baby and mother’s milk was well known to help cement pack bonds.  Werewolves were very protective of pack young.

As the pack arrived, Laura was relieved to feel the bonds snap into place.  There had been essentially zero chance that the pack would reject its newest member, but it still felt good and right.

“I would like to introduce you to Dalia Hale, the next Alpha of Beacon Hills.”


	10. Apple Crisp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is baking, babies, and almost no sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually my family’s normal apple crisp recipe. When my older daughter was born, I had some trouble with my milk supply. A friend sent me a recipe of lactation cookies that were supposed to encourage milk production. They were absolutely disgusting, but I was delighted to discover that my apple crisp recipe had many of the same ingredients. Wheat germ is an excellent source of folic acid and some people believe that oatmeal increases milk production. No clue if this is true, but I will take any excuse to eat apple crisp for breakfast :)

_Ingredients_

  * _¼ cup wheat germ_

  * _¼ cup rolled oats_

  * _¼ cup brown sugar_

  * _¼ cup butter (or margarine)_

  * _1 tablespoon cinnamon_

  * _honey and/or lemon juice_

  * _4 apples_




_Directions_

_Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Combine the first 5 ingredients using a pastry cutter or food processor to form a crumble. Peel apples and thinly slice.  Fill a 9x9 baking dish or small casserole with apples.  Drizzle apples with a couple tablespoons of lemon juice and/or honey to adjust the sweetness or tartness of apples.  I find a drizzle of both works well for most apples. Pour the crumble onto the apples and press down to form an even crust that covers the apples. Bake for 40 - 60 minutes until apples are soft and crust is browned._

********************

Stiles went to bed early the night after the jury verdict.  This was just as well because he was woken up in the early hours of the morning by Derek shifting around.  His bed partner was usually a quiet sleeper, but that night he couldn’t seem to settle. Stiles turned over and met Derek’s wide open eyes.

“Can’t sleep?” Stiles asked sympathetically.  He was well acquainted with stress related insomnia.

“Nope,” Derek stretched his arms above his head showing off his chest. “But I have an idea of what we can do instead.”

The view was giving Stiles several ideas as well. He could use one hand to trap Derek’s arms in place while he used the other to worry Derek’s nipples in the way that drove him crazy.  Orgasms were well known to put men to sleep.  Stiles was going to help like the wonderful boyfriend that he was.

“We should bake a cake,” Derek continued.

“A cake?” Stiles was a little thrown.  Why was Derek worrying about baked goods when they were mostly naked in bed?  His erection was not going to be addressed by cake.  Well, maybe it could be, but there were faster and more appealing options.  

“A birthday cake,” explained Derek as he sat up and prepared to leave the warm comfort of the bed.  

“Whose birthday is it?” Stiles asked in confusion.  He had programed his phone to give him several days warning of everyone’s birthday so he had time to make their favorite dessert and drop it off on their front porch.  Scott had made jokes about Stiles being the birthday treat fairy until Allison had clued him in to the potentially offensive double meaning.

“My niece.”  When Stiles looked puzzled, Derek continued. “You seriously didn’t notice Laura was in labor earlier today.”

Stiles was feeling a little slow.  Laura hadn’t acted like the women who gave birth in the movies.  Maybe it was a werewolf thing. Also, Stiles was fairly certain that infants didn’t eat cake.  “She was helping wait tables,” protested Stiles.  “I don’t think waiting tables in labor is a good idea.” Derek just raised an eyebrow.

“Fine, I believe you. If you want to bake a cake at,” Stiles fumbled for his cell phone to check the time. “Two AM I suppose I am going to help you.”  Stiles reluctantly decided they could save sex until it was in the oven.  And if Derek needed a sleep aide later, would selflessly agree to a second round.

Stiles paged through his recipe file to see if he already had a basic cake recipe without eggs, but Derek stopped him at the recipe for apple crisp.  

“This looks better,” Derek suggested. Stiles had to agree.  Vegan cakes always had a slightly strange texture and the apple crisp almost qualified as healthy. While Derek prepared the apples, Stiles began making vegan and dairy versions of the topping.

“It is strange to think that my niece is being born tonight,” Derek mused.  “When I focus, I can feel an echo of Laura laboring, but it seems intrusive to listen in.  Soon there will be another person in the pack.”

“Was it weird when Laura’s husband bonded into the pack?” Stiles asked.  “The McCall pack bonded all at once and we haven’t had anyone new join.”

“It came on gradually,” Derek answered. “Laura could feel Owen first and then Cora.  I didn’t sense him until he was formally inducted after he accepted Laura’s proposal.”

“I didn’t realize it could happen like that,” Stiles confessed.  “Sometimes I think I can feel you and Cora, but I am probably just imagining it.”

Derek grinned as he finished slicing that last apple and pushed the first filled pyrex to Stiles.  “It is probably real.”  He closed his eyes briefly to concentrate.  “I can’t sense you, but I have never been sensitive in that way.”

“Great, I am still figuring out how to be the member of one pack.  I’m not sure how it would work to have two.”  Stiles poured the vegan filling on the first dish of apples and put it in the oven.

“It doesn’t really work like that,” Derek said as he passed Stiles the second dish. “However, if you want the specifics of pack bonding theory, you should probably talk to Peter.”

“I’ll quiz him when things settle down.  For now, I have a better idea of what to focus on while the crisps bake,” announced Stiles.  By this point sexy times while food was in the oven was a tradition.  One Stiles hadn’t the slightest interest in breaking.  

Stiles had almost coaxed Derek to try to sleep after they finished the baking when the phone rang.  Later, Stiles would realize he should have questioned why he was being dragged across town in the early morning to meet Laura’s baby, but in the moment it seemed natural to help Derek load the apple crisps into his car and then hop into the passenger seat. He wasn’t surprised that he felt an instant connection to the tiny baby trying to latch herself onto Laura’s chest.  Of course, she was precious to him and his pack.  A new little life to begin the next generation.

“I would like to introduce you to Dalia Hale, the next Alpha of Beacon Hills,” Laura declared proudly.  Her words pulled him back to reality.  Beacon Hills already had two Alphas and succession had not even been discussed.

Peter and Stiles met eyes over Laura and her pup. It was one thing for the packs to gradually merge though love and friendship, but Laura declaring her daughter heir to all of Beacon HIlls was something else entirely.  Also, Stiles realized he was now fully bonded into the Hale pack.  Laura probably hadn’t intentionally pulled the McCall pack’s emissary into her pack, but wars had been started by significantly less. He gently tested the bonds and could feel all the Hales marveling at their new relative.  The only one paying him the slightest attention was Peter who was watching him coldly.  Stiles had forgotten how disconcerting Peter had been before he considered Stiles an ally.

“I’m going to call Scott,” Stiles said delicately.

“Yes, he should come to check over Dalia,” agreed Laura obviously only thinking of Scott’s qualifications as a supernatural physician. If any Alpha could accept this change peacefully it would be Scott.  If they were lucky, it wouldn’t even occur to him that it could be considered a problem.  

Scott blearily answered the phone but seemed eager to come over as soon as he understood that Laura’s baby had been born.  He arrived in less than ten minutes and declared both mom and pup to be in perfect health.  

“She is so precious,” he cooed as he handed Dalia back to her mother.  “I am certain she will grow up to be an amazing Alpha.”  Scott exchanged a couple more pleasantries with the Hales and then gathered up his equipment to leave.  Stiles followed him out.

“Did you notice any changes to the pack?” Stiles asked carefully.  

Scott looked briefly puzzled until Stiles pointed to himself and then gestured towards the door of Laura’s apartment.

“Oh that,”  Scott replied.  “I first felt you joining the Hale pack a couple weeks ago. Just as well the bond has completed.  Now we don’t have to worry about what happens when you and Derek decide to get married.”

“Seriously?” Stiles asked incredulously. Scott had felt him being pulled into another pack and hadn’t thought it worth mentioning.

“We all work together, you love Derek, and their pack needed an emissary,” Scott explained as if the whole thing was obvious.  “When the packs merge entirely, Laura and I can be co-Alphas.  Laura can handle Beacon Hills and I can handle outside politics.”  Scott paused and looked thoughtful. “Or maybe it would be better reversed.  Either way really.  When Laura is off maternity leave, we can figure it out.”

“Do Alpha’s get maternity leave?” Stiles wondered.  It was nice to know that there was nothing to worry about but he was still disconcerted by the whole thing.

“Everyone should get maternity leave,” Scott insisted. “My shift at the hospital starts at 6 so I should probably get going.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed. “I am going to go back in to stop Peter from plotting how to kill us all in a pack war and then go open the restaurant.”

Following tradition, Laura, Owen, and Dalia would stay denned in Laura’s apartment for several weeks while the rest of the pack provided everything the little family needed.  During lulls in customers, Stiles prepared a couple of protein rich casseroles to supplement Derek’s cooking.  Stiles knew it was possible to get a completely balanced diet from vegan cooking, but he thought Laura would welcome a couple of carnivorous options. Erica volunteered to deliver them as an excuse to meet the baby

Mid afternoon, a unfamiliar werewolf entered the restaurant.

“Welcome to Stiles Restaurant,” Stiles greeted as he prepared to show the man to the table.

“Do you know Jen and Cam Ashford?” the man inquired politely.  He appeared to be in his early thirties with light brown hair and a slightly upturned nose.  Like most werewolves, he was very attractive, but he tended towards quirkily handsome rather than chiseled.

“They are frequent customers,” Stiles responded. He was a little wary of giving out information to strangers.

“Do you have a way of contacting them?  Jen helped me out of a bad situation yesterday and I wanted to make sure her and her son were alright.”

“Are you the owner of the store below their apartment?” Stiles asked looking at the man with increased interest.

“Yes, my name is Joseph Delphin” he answered.

“In that case, I believe I owe you dinner.” Stiles responded and began to usher the werewolf towards a table. “They made it back safely last night, but I haven’t heard from them today.”  Stiles handed the man a menu and pulled out his phone as soon as he was back in the kitchen area.

“The shop owner just showed up to check on Cam and Jen,” he reported when Isaac answered the phone.  Stiles could hear Cam yelling in the background asking who had called.  A brief discussion ensued between Isaac, Cam, and Jen before Isaac announced they were all going to come to the restaurant for an early dinner.  It seemed that Jen and Isaac were back on reasonable terms.  Stiles was very curious what had been decided.

As soon as Cam and his parents arrived, they joined Joseph at his table.  Although he was extremely tempted to eavesdrop, Stiles confined himself to only visiting the table when required.  Erica had no such scruples.  

“The adults are discussing vaccination rates in the local schools and Cam is focusing on sneaking cheese off Isaac’s plate whenever his mother isn’t looking,” Erica reported after a completely unnecessary trip to refill their water.  “You know for someone who is so wary of supernaturals, Jen seems to have a bit of a thing for werewolves. Jen is totally getting her flirt on.”  

“Really, last time I was over there it seemed like Joseph was going for Isaac,”  Stiles commented giving the table another look.  Erica crowded next to Stiles and peered at Joseph’s table without a hint of subtlety.

“You are so wrong,” she exclaimed gleefully.  “Joseph is flirting with both of them.  Jen hasn’t noticed he is splitting his affections and Isaac hasn’t noticed the flirting at all.  This is going to end so badly.  I have to go call Cora.”

Stiles spent a couple of minutes worrying about how he was going to smooth over any embarrassment that may come from the ill fated dinner and then he realized how ridiculous the situation was.  For the first time in months, his most immediate concern was whether his friends would have some awkward moments.  Isaac and Jen were adults who did not need saving from life’s minor mishaps.  

Thirty minutes later, Isaac rose abruptly declaring that he had to talk to Stiles about that weeks vegetable order. “Finally figured it out,” Stiles greeted him with a smirk.

“Shut up, it would have taken you even longer,” Isaac responded.  Stiles had to acknowledge this as true.

“It looks like you and Jen are getting along better.”

“Yeah, we talked for a long time last night and I think everything is going to work out,” Isaac confirmed.

“Cam will be back in Beacon Hills?”

“We decided his new school is a better fit so he is going to stay with Jen during the week.  I will still go down on Wednesday evenings, but Cam will be here most Saturdays and all Sundays,”  Isaac reported.  

“That sounds unexpectedly fair.”  Stiles was glad that Cam would be around the pack again.  There had been a hole while he was gone.  

“Jen had a bad scare and it forced her to realize it was impossible to protect Cam from every bad thing.  Before yesterday, I think she honestly thought that because nothing really bad had ever happened to her Cam would always be safe in her presence.”

“That makes no sense,” Stiles protested.

Isaac shrugged.  Now that he had his son back, he seemed uninterested in understanding his ex’s previous delusions.  “Its over.  I don’t think I will ever trust her the way I did before, but I do think we will be able to continue to work together to raise Cam.”

“Good enough,” Stiles declared and Isaac agreed.  

By the time Derek showed up just before closing Stiles was in an excellent mood.  It wasn’t that there was nothing in his life he would change.  A boring life with nothing to strive for would never satisfy him. No, Stiles was happy to live in interesting times. He knew his future would not always be easy, but it would be never be lonely or boring.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi All,
> 
> I am excited to revisit this universe. This story is mostly complete and will post weekly on Tuesdays.
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta Kamara Black. All remaining mistakes are mine. I have a tumblr [here](http://ankabit.tumblr.com/). Feel free to stop by and say hi :-)
> 
> Thanks,  
> Anika


End file.
